Arranged
by Amberdeengirl
Summary: Hunter dissapeared, for reasons Morgan would never believe. Now she is being forced into a marriage of someone who seems dull, catholic, and everything she's not...but is he something worse and much closer to home?
1. Chapter 1

I stood in Father Hodgekiss's bathroom. Mrs Hodgekiss always allowed bride-to-be's to use their house as a sort of dressing room. _Arranged marriage. _I wasn't even sure it was legal anymore, yet here I was, in a flowing white dress, half an hour away from being eternally joined to someone my parents had picked out for me. Isaac Cheldon, head of an international toy company and a very, very rich man, and my new husband.

Bree Warren, my best friend, came up from fixing my trail. She gave me a hug, and her eyes sparkled with rare tears; Bree knew what this day meant for me. _Eternally joined. _Emotions flew around in my head; sadness, worry, anger, confusion, pain...but not happiness, happiness would never enter me again, because, as of this day, I was to be Morgan Cheldon. As of this day, I was to be renouncing my birthright, my heritage, WICCA, forever. My heart threatened to explode.

"Oh Morgan, I...I don't know what to say..." Whispered Bree. Bree, the most confident girl in Widows Vale High, the most outgoing, reckless, and probably least virgin – if that's possible – girl in the senior year, was lost for words. She patted my back softly. My hair had been yanked up into a tight bun and coated in hairspray, whilst these bloody pins were drilling into my skull. _Bloody._ The word made me pull back from Bree and gasp. _He used to say that; bloody_. "Morgan?" Asked Bree, worriedly. I put a gloved hand on my forehead, fighting back tears.

"Nothing...it's just..." My whisper trailed off as I burst into tears. Bree's cheek glistened with a tear as well, and we both fell apart, crying into each other's shoulders. I don't know how long we stood like that for...but it wasn't long enough. My mother, Mary Grace Rowlands, walked in and gaped at us as we pulled apart from our embrace.

"Bree, out," She said, snapping her fingers. She had turned so cold, ever since my adopted Dad died she had been acting like a ghost, and then one day she broke completely and married Stuart Afton's brother, who had been selling his house through her and had 'madly fallen in love with her', as he'd said at their wedding. Bree gave me a sympathetic nod, though tears still poured silently down her own face, and shuffled out of the room in her baby blue dress.

I faced my mother, not sure whether to feel sad or sick or angry or what. "Are you ready, Morgan?" She asked. She talked like a robot, our conversations had gotten shorter and shorter, until they had just turned into a single sentence with about as much emotion as a dead rat. It hurt me for her to talk like this, it hurt just to look at her so pale and confused.

"Yes Mom," I said, but my voice cracked half way through. My Mom simply nodded. Another problem with my mom; she didn't even notice anymore. I remembered back to when she could take one glance at me and know I was upset. _Just like he could, _Shut up! I screamed at the voice, momentarily shocked.

"Good, it's time."

Father Hodgekiss's house was right next to the church. I glared at its big wooden doors with a sudden hatred, though I knew I would feel more hatred when I passed through them. I stood on the steps. I could hear the organ from here. _No, no, no, no NO! _I screamed silently. "Hey sis! Big day huh?" I spun around, almost tripping over the hems of my dress, to see Killian, my half brother, trotting up the steps. He looked faintly hung over, and I wondered why he was in a tux.

"Killian? What are you doing here?" I asked, my voice shaking from gladness that I would have Killian there for me, even if he wasn't the best listener in the world. _He was the best listener, he always listened to you, while he held you and – _shut up!

"I came to walk my little sis down the aisle, of course," He said with a big grin. I wrapped my arms around him, tears springing to my eyes again. He patted my back a little awkwardly and pulled back.

"Now, will I have time to say hello to Hunter before—"I dropped my bouquet onto the concrete steps and just stared at it as I shook uncontrollably. Usually I was good at hiding my emotions...but now I couldn't not when they overpowered my mind.

I saw Bree whisper in Killian's ear about his weird disappearance a few months ago. Damn! Now I'd thought about it again. The rasps ripped through my chest as I failed to take deep breaths. And his _name, _oh god I'm not going to survive. "Ah," Said Killian quietly, and pulled me into another hug. As my rasping gradually died down, Bree patted me on the elbow and gave a meaningful nod at the clock that was about the doors, set into the brick.

Now it really was time. I took a few deep breaths, though even meditation wouldn't stop me from hyperventilating, and turned to face the big wooden doors.

_What am I doing? This is stupid, selfish and dangerous. Niall you are a total wreck! I scolded myself. I was sitting on the white cliffs of Dover, I placed my lueg in front of me and took a deep breath. Was there any point in doing this? No, there wasn't, but I wanted to, needed to, after the dreams I had been having these past few days about her. Besides, I wouldn't get another chance until I was in Paris. It was five pm. I had an hour before my ferry to Calais left. _

_I had never scryed for something like this before, something that wasn't for loss or danger or for my job as a seeker; this was purely for the sight of a face. My love's face. I was hit by a sudden wave of excitement; I was going to see her beautiful brown eyes and her long, messy hair. My heart gave an audible thud and I turned back to the stone and whispered the words I'd been saying since I was a child:_

"Show me now what I should see,

What was past or what will be.

The stream of time will start to slow;

Show me where I need to go."

_I was hit by a wave of emotions that weren't my own; pain, sadness, sorrow, regret, loss. I was standing on the steps of somewhere, facing two big brown doors. I looked up; there was a large stone clock set into the brick, and then above it was a cross. I realised this was the church at Widows Vale. I wondered why I was here. The clock showed 11. sun glinted in my eyes, it was obviously morning. I looked down to see a girl in a long white dress with a veil. _That woman must be the bride, _I thought, she turned around. Her dark eyes gleamed with tears. _Morgan! _I almost lost the vision from shock. She was getting married? Why hadn't she noticed my presence yet? Killian, her brother, stood behind her, with a look of concern on his face that I'd never have expected from him. What was he doing here? My mind flew with emotions and guesses and quite a few swear words. I struggled to keep the vision through the thunders shaking my mind. Quickly, I refocused, only to see that she was at the alter – it was showing me the present. I stood behind them, so I couldn't see the man's face, but then I noticed the tattoo on his lower neck. Where had I seen it before? _

Hunter? Why the hell are you here? _I heard Killian's voice in my head. _Morgan's got enough problems without you showing your arse of a presence here. _I looked to where her half brother stood, watching the ceremony, but his eyes showed his anger._

Killian, who's Morgan marrying? _I asked back in earnest, watching her and the man say their vows._

None of your business you slimy git. Now stop scrying before Morgan notices your presence, _His voice was cold. I had never much liked Killian, he never took anything seriously, always slipping out of trouble and leaving it for the rest of us to deal with._

Killian, please, just tell me who. _I hardly ever pleaded, it was one of the signs of weakness; a sign that a seeker should never have. However, right now I couldn't care less about the god damned council; who the hell was Morgan marrying? And why, in the name of the goddess, was she marrying someone she did not love? I was being selfish, I knew. But I also knew that Morgan would only ever be truly happy with me; her _muirn beatha dan_. I couldn't hear what the priest was saying, but I knew what was about to happen and my entire body wanted to leap in the way to stop them. They kissed, and my heart broke for the second time in the space of an hour. Morgan had her hands on his chest, and his hand was on her neck, his thumb rubbing up and down her neck too hard. I had to criticise him, I knew how to kiss her and he definitely didn't; it was one of those kisses that guys give hookers...not that I know anything about how to kiss a hooker...I could tell Morgan wasn't as into it as he was; her eyes were slightly open, and I could see a glint of despair. This made me feel slightly happy. _Niall! Snap out of it you idiot! Morgan's unhappy, you dick! You shouldn't be happy about that, _my mind yelled at me._

_Finally, the kiss ended, and Morgan looked relieved. I glanced up at the man. I took in the black, slimy hair; the ugly grimace forced into a smile on his lips; his bright blue eyes..._Shit! Cheldon! _The image disappeared and I was once again sitting on the cliffs of Dover, the cold sea air fanning my face._

"_Bloody hell!" I roared, snatching my lueg from the grass. A couple of tourists who'd been taking photos looked up at me with scared expressions. I didn't give a damn. I strode back to my black Lexus and got in, slamming the door. I did a U turn in the middle of the road, the two tourists staring at me totally bewildered; not that I was looking at them, I could just feel their emotions, my head was so full of other crap that I wished I couldn't. My knuckles turned white on the steering wheel and I was way over the speed limits, but I didn't slow down. I wanted to make it to Heathrow airport before sundown, though that was impossible. I was going to meet Athar in Paris, which was now totally out of my equation. "Fuck you Cheldon, you prick, you're fucking dead if you hurt my girl!"_


	2. Chapter 2

The doors opened and closed behind me as I walked in after Bree. My mind was like concrete. No thoughts would I allow in, nothing, nothing, nothing. I knew the guests were staring at me, I knew they must've been thinking how awful I looked, why my face was so blank.

It didn't take me long to reach the alter, and Isaac Cheldon. When I'd first met him, I'd been astounded that anyone who looked like him could run a _toy _company. He had oily black hair, and a straight, pointed nose. His thin lips always seemed twisted into a grimace. There was a purpley-white scar on his left cheek, but other than that his grey skin was flawless. He was tall, and muscular, I'd been able to tell even though he'd been wearing a suit and coat. A long time ago I would've been afraid, but now I had the built in security of my power, my magick. But I had renounced that, hadn't I? It was still there, and it wouldn't go away. I felt secure, physically.

But now I stood there, carefully blocking such well aimed thoughts out. Nothing. Nothing. Father Hodgekiss finally asked whether I took Isaac Cheldon to be my husband. It's never a question, though, it's a cue, and there's only ever one answer. "I do," my voice was mechanical, I noted, not betraying emotions which were now best left untouched.

In the moment just before he answered Father Hodgekiss, I looked into his eyes. They were a sharp, harsh blue, hooded darkly by thick lashes and straight black eyebrows. But the look he gave me plunged ice into my chest, slamming me out of my concrete barriers. The man looked at me bluntly, his eyes piercing right into me, seeing every thought I had. Something in the air had changed; there was a stillness, a hush—I knew none of the other people in the room would feel it, still, to me it was as clear as a gunshot.

"I do," he said, and took complete ownership of me.

"You may kiss the bride," said Father Hodgekiss in an eerily cheerful voice. Isaac Cheldon grabbed my hand and pulled me to him, his other hand easily cupping half my neck. His lips pushed into mine and I felt my throat tighten with the need to scream. He was pushy and pressed his lips harder against mine. He dropped my hand and wrapped it round my waist instead. Both of my own rested limply against his chest as I focused on the white scar on his left cheek. A tear leaked from my eye, but no one would see it, no one would understand. And as my husband gripped my elbow and walked me out, I thought this thought, and sealed away my losses, my magick, and my heart. They wouldn't be safe with him.

Hunter

_I drove fast, and used about fifty glamours to get rid of policemen who were intent on stopping me. Now I was in London, and the road was no longer racing under me. "FUCK!" I yelled, slamming my fists against the steering wheel. Then I gripped it, and let out a stricken gasp as a tear slid down my cheek. _Morgan, sweet love, oh goddess...Morgan! _I blinked away other tears and blanked my mind, like I did before starting a circle. But instead of clearing it, I just turned it to the one other thought that consumed me; what I was going to do to Cheldon. I would bind him with my _claigh,_ so tightly he would beg for death. But I wouldn't give. I'd strip him of his powers, his infamous powers, and leave him to rot away. I would spare him no words, he wasn't worth it._

_I finally got to Heathrow Airport, and parked in the first place I spotted, which turned out to be as far away from the terminal as possible. I ran, ignoring the ignorant protests from travellers and businessmen, and reached the ticket desk in no time flat. "I need a ticket to New York," I said to the lady, who was still typing into her computer. My voice was desperate, but she rolled her eyes._

"_One moment sir," she muttered dully. I gritted my teeth. She kept typing, and typing and typing._

"_Bloody hell!" I cursed under my breath, but she heard and looked up with a raised eyebrow. She looked at me up and down. Her lips suddenly became bigger, her eyes almost dumber. Ugh! I did _not _need _this _now!_

"_I need a ticket to New York. Now," I said the words slowly and precisely. Her lips became pursed again._

"_Well I'm sorry, _sir, _but I can't help you," she said, "we have a flight tomorrow night," I glared over the ditsy girl's shoulder. _Niall, _the rational part of my mind finally spoke up, _you need a clear head if you're going to ever get to Morgan, stop acting like a dick! Calm down! _I shut my eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. _

"_I'm sorry," I said, not quite able to look in her eye, "I'm in rather a hurry, you see, my father's in hospital and I have to see him," _Not good enough, _I looked pleadingly into her eyes. "There's nothing you," I leaned forward a little, "nothing you can do?"_

"_Um..." she swallowed and looked down again at the screen, "there's one which leaves in two hours, but economy class is full,"_

"_I'll take a first class ticket, then," I said, and whipped out my card before she changed her mind. I jabbed in my pin, so thankful that the council had invited me into the inner circle; after I'd left Widow's Vale, my only distraction was nabbing every lawbreaking witch in Britain. Then I flashed my passport at her, thankful I'd had that, too, since I was going to France. She raised her eyebrow again as her eyes flicked from me to my picture._

"_That's a good picture," she said, biting her lip. I forced a smile and she finally gave me my ticket. But as she handed it to me, she gripped my hand._

"_I'm sorry about your father," she said in one of the worst consoling tones I've ever heard. I nodded and walked away, thanking the goddess for my amazing women-charming abilities...they certainly came in handy. But then I remembered Justine Courceau and how she'd kissed me and Morgan had scryed and the whole thing crashed back down upon me. What if he kills her? But I knew he wouldn't. He'd do worse. And what if he raped her? My ticket was crushed by my fist. Weddings...wedding nights...I wouldn't make it in time to stop him! Morgan...Morgan would have to give herself to him. My chest heaved. I knew what power Isaac Cheldon was capable of, and the urgency to get to Widow's Vale became even stronger._

"_Goddess, keep her safe," I whispered. It was all I could do...unless..._

_I found a quiet corner of the terminal and sat, so much calmer now that I knew I could do something. I took deep breaths, my seeker training kicking into gear._

'Killian,' _I thought, my mind reaching thousands of miles away, _'Killian, you must listen! Morgan is in danger!' _I hoped he was getting the desperation in my thought._

'Niall...' _I felt a jolt of triumph, then took a deep breath and focussed; I had to keep him listening._

'Isaac Cheldon, the man Morgan's marrying, he's a witch,'

'He isn't,' _Killian sent back with a mental eye roll._

'Hadrian,' _I told him _'Hadrian, Killian, have you heard of him?'

'Stop talking shit, Niall, he's not Hadrian,'

'Have you seen the scar on his left cheek?'

'Look, he's not a witch, I would've sensed it, Morgan would've sensed it,'

'Hadrian is powerful enough to hide his magick,'

'_Hadrian _is a myth, my Da searched for him for years and didn't find a trace,' _I was losing, no good would come out this, _'you just don't want Morgan to have anyone to care for her but yourself,'

'Killian,' _I thought to him with more desperation than I cared to give the idiot, _'please, just don't leave the two of them alone tonight, don't let Morgan go off with him, just for tonight, then they can do whatever they wish,'

'It's their wedding night, it's their right,' _I tried a different tack._

'Do you think Morgan wants to?' _The thought was quiet, and Killian didn't reply for a few moments and worry began to flash in me again._

'No...No she doesn't...'

'Then it's in your interests, seeing as you're her brother, to keep her away from Cheldon,' _the great space between me and him was quiet._

'Why are you so sure that he is Hadrian anyway?'

'Hadrian is a power hunter, Killian,' _I thought grimly, _'and to him, Morgan will be his greatest prize,' _it hurt to say it, but it would do the trick._

'Do you know him?'

'I've run into him,'

'And you are quite sure?'

'Killian, you know I love her, I would do nothing to cause her strife unless I thought it necessary,'

'It would seem strife has been rather constant since you left,'

'I did what I had to, to protect her,'

'How chivalrous,' _he drawled his thought._

'Just don't let her out of your sight,'

'I won't...but only for tonight, unless you fucked up idea proves to be true,'

'Thank you,' _and then he was gone. I opened my eyes and watched the wall spin as I slid onto the floor. I felt weak. The distance had been too far, I couldn't afford to take risks like that, it could kill me, and then Morgan._

_I gripped one of the plastic seats and dragged myself back up._

_I couldn't be bothered finding a coffee shop, and settled for the machine. Sadly, one long black doesn't go very far to curing tiredness when you're a witch, so I ended up downing four coffees, and then I sat back down, biting into a Kit Kat. I felt a little more awake by the last piece, and the endless worries all flooded back in. It was a six hour flight to New York, and then I'd have to drive to Widows Vale. And what would I do when I got there? I would be killed if I simply waltzed into Isaac Cheldon's house and tried killing him. I would need Morgan, and Killian, and Alyce, if she was still there. I wondered if Alyce had seen Cheldon? Would she have—_

'Hunter!' _I shot up straight, then realised it was Killian's voice._

'What?'

'Morgan's gone!'


	3. Chapter 3

Hey, thought I ought to just mention two things before the merriment begins:

This is based before Full Circle, since I haven't read it yet (Amazon failed me! I've only read up to Reckoning)

This chapter's a wee bit violent, no worse than the Ballet Studio in Twilight (sorry, but everything's compared to Twilight at the present), but do tell me if you reckon I should move it up to M – I don't particularly want to, but I'm not the one who's reading it...

Enjoy!

-----

There was a pain in my chest as I sat at the reception. I didn't try to look happy. Mom sat by me, and I couldn't see Killian anywhere. Bree was on my left, and I gripped her hand under the table. "Morgan," she said, "you can still pull out..."

"Can I?" I whispered, staring dully at the lilies on the table, "it's what Mom wants,"

"Morgan...think of yourself!" Bree sounded almost appalled, and it woke me a little, "You've become so selfless since Hunter left! What is wrong with you?"

"Hunter took me with him, Bree," I told her softly, sadly, maybe, "and Hunter's dead. I can only live for others now," Bree looked at me oddly.

"You really believe he's dead?" She asked shakily.

"Yes," I'd decided it as my new husband had led me to the car and helped me in. And as Widows Vale had passed me by, and I remembered how he'd left me messages in the trees when he'd left to find his father. He would've given me a sign, a letter, anything. And he hadn't, which led me to only one conclusion.

"You have no proof," said Bree.

"He was a powerful witch, Bree, but he had enemies, my enemies..."

"Morgan," a new voice interrupted us. Killian. I looked round, remembering I was surrounded by guests and happy people. Killian looked strange, a little drawn and kind of jumpy.

"Are you ok, Killian?" I asked, looking up at him.

"Ironic of you to ask..." he trailed off. He knelt down by my side and took my hand. I was surprised; what did he want? "Morgan, please don't do this..."

"I've done it, Killian!" I snapped. "I'm married and that's it. I'm his!" Killian shut his eyes for a moment and tried to calm himself. I'd never seen him so uptight before now...

"Not you, sis, you're a fighter," he murmured, then stood, not looking at me and turned to Bree. "Bree, let's grab a drink and give Morgan some peace, eh?" His manner was polite, but I realised it was still rigid. Bree looked at me anxiously, and I waved her away like some idiotic monarch. She got up and left with Killian. I looked down at my lap again, but there was a large hand on my shoulder. I looked up right into the cold eyes of my new husband.

"Morgan, come for a walk with me," he said. His voice deep and clear. I nodded and stood. He walked briskly past the tables and out of the hotel ballroom onto the balcony. He just expected me to follow. He closed the door behind us. "I know about your old religion, Morgan," he said, "and you ought to know that I'm not having any part of it, it's the work of Satan," What the hell? A fire, a tiny lick of a flame ignited in my belly.

"It isn't," I heard myself say defiantly. He glared at me and suddenly he pushed me against the wall, his body lined up to mine. He was a good head taller than me, and his hot breath swirled down on me. I shook with fear.

"Do _not, _practice any witchcraft whatsoever, Morgan Rowlands, or I will kill you," I breathed deeply in and pushed him away, but he only got a step back.

"I will do what I want, Isaac Cheldon! And as you are my husband you should freaking accept it! It's in my bloodlines, it's what I'm born to, accept it! You don't even know me!" Magick! Could I do it? Could I show him who was in charge here?

"My wife will not be a whore of Satan!" He snarled, grabbing my wrists and slamming me back against the wall.

"Then why the hell did you choose me!" I seethed and my hand uncurled itself and shot flaming white power at him. It dissolved into the air between us. I gasped in horror. What had just happened...and what hadn't? Isaac licked his lips and smirked at me.

"You see," he almost laughed, "I have God's power on my side," I glared at him angrily, but he chuckled and pressed himself against me, releasing my hands and tugging them around his waist. He nuzzled my neck "You see," he whispered darkly, "I'm so much more powerful than you, Morgan, you won't win," he smelt of spices and mustiness.

"Get away from me," I said weakly, as helplessness set in again. Instead, he kissed me hard on the lips. I tried desperately to stop his prying tongue, but his hands were back, pressing into my wrists. But it was my chest that hurt.

He let me go eventually, and I hurried to the powder room and locked the door. But when I looked into the mirror I saw something close to death. My hair was a mess, and tears brimmed over my eyes immediately. I was a wreck. My lips were slightly smudged and I found the backs of my wrists scraped to bleeding.

There was suddenly a bang on the door, and Bree's voice was desperate on the other side, "Morgan! Please let us in!" I swallowed and said a shaky 'no'. He'd stopped my powers...he'd...I had no defence now, no security at all. Oh Goddess, oh Goddess no!

"Don't bother Bree," I heard Killian's tired voice. The door clicked open and they both slipped in.

"Morgan!" Bree gasped, taking in the state of me. Killian bolted the door shut again and drew runes of secrecy and concealment on it. I hated how I still identified them instantly, unthinkingly. Bree was hugging me tightly and I cried into her shoulder.

"What did he do?" Asked Killian. I sunk to the floor, and they sat with me.

"He told me I couldn't practice Wicca," I mumbled. I looked up at them both, but they were looking at each other intensely, but not in a good way. Eye arguing. Bree snapped out of it and turned to me.

"What did you say?" She put her arm round me.

"I said no, and then he..." I stopped myself, and looked at my wrists. "Killian," I said. He didn't reply. I saw he was staring off at the ceiling, deep in thought.

"Killian!" Bree smacked on the leg. He came to, as it were, and looked at me in pain.

"I shot white fire at him," he looked at me alarmed.

"What did he do – I mean, say,"

"It – it dissolved," I said. He didn't look surprised at all; he just nodded grimly and asked,

"Are you hurt?" I accidentally glanced down at my wrists and in a moment they were both crouching by me, examining them. Bree was bitter.

"That arsehole, that _idiot,_" she seethed.

"I can't heal them, Morgan; I'm useless at that sort of thing,"

"Maybe we should call the police," I said hesitantly. The last time I'd suggested that was when me and...him had fallen off the veranda which Cal had sawed through. He'd said it would've been a waste of time and they wouldn't side with us.

Bree and Killian exchanged glances. "Morgan, I don't think they could do much," said Bree tentatively, "Isaac Cheldon's a very powerful man,"

"Yes," agreed Killian, "and it'll be his word against yours, and everyone knows you're in a rather fragile state, they could think..."

"The cuts are on the wrong side, Killian," I muttered, but they were probably right. Killian stood and held out his hand.

"Come on, sis," he said, "you and Bree can get you cleaned up; I have to go fix some accommodation. I'm not leaving until I know your safe," he pulled me up gently, and then into a soft hug. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders.

"Thank you, Killian," I whispered hoarsely, feeling the tears mount up again.

"No problem," he said. Then, to my surprise, he went and hugged Bree, but I could tell he was murmuring something to her under his breath. She pulled back and gave a shocked nod of her head and I frowned. Killian gave me one last reassuring smile and left. I locked the door behind him again and turned to Bree.

"What was that about?" I asked.

"What do you mean?" She asked back, starting to fix my hair.

"The hug and the whispering?"

"He was telling me to take care of you," she said. She delved into her clutch purse for a comb and she was smoothing out my long, once cherished and loved hair when I suddenly gasped. My heart dropped a mile.

"What is it?" She asked urgently.

"Bree...tonight..." I said, "Is my wedding night," No! I couldn't! I couldn't do that with...I was still a virgin, for god's sake!

"I know," she said, stopping her combing, "I've been thinking about it..." we stood silently. Suddenly I was consumed by the memory of Hunter's last night before he left to find his father. I was prepared then, it was my choice, my choice alone, he hadn't even spoken of it...and then he pulled out. Now, in all my heart I wished he hadn't. I wouldn't lose something so special to anyone but my _muirn beatha dan. _I know that's hardly ever the case with anybody, but I'd found him, my true love, and even though I'd lost him, no one else would do. Ever, and particularly not the monster I was married to.

"Tell him you've got your period," Bree said. I spun around.

"Good idea!" I sounded so elated...but it dropped quickly, "what if he doesn't believe me? Bree...what if he..."

"Morgan," Bree said sternly, putting her hands on my shoulders, "it's better than nothing, right?"

"Right," I said hesitantly.

"And I'll come with you to tell him, and we'll make sure your Mom's there, so he can't get angry," I nodded, and threw my arms around her in a hug.

"Thank you, Bree, thank you, thank you, thank you!" Bree sighed over my shoulder.

"I'll get you out of it, Morgan, me and Killian and Hu – and Robbie," I didn't miss her mistake.

"Hunter's dead, please, accept it, it makes it so much easier for me to understand myself," Bree didn't say anything, she just went back to fixing my hair.

It didn't make it easier, not really. It just gave me a certain answer, I could stop wondering and hoping. I couldn't get let down anymore, not with death...surely not?

_Hunter_

The flight was just boarding when Killian finally thought to reach me. _'We found her,' _he told me, _'he hasn't done anything...' _I could feel him repressing something...images.

'_Killian,' _I thought forcefully, _'is she alright?'_

'_She's fine,'_

'_What are you hiding?'_

'Nothing _happened, Niall, Hadrian just shook her up a little,'_

'_You and I both know it's not 'just', Killian. He could kill Morgan in a matter of seconds,'_

'_I have to go,' _came an abrupt thought, _'Morgan's talking to me, I'll tell you more if I can later,' _my mind returned to my place in the queue, the passport in my hand. I got a toothy, bright pink grin from the girl checking the tickets as I handed her mine. I suddenly remembered sheepishly admitting to Morgan how I'd chatted up Stuart Afton's secretary. She wouldn't have known that all the while I was thinking of her strong, striking face and stubborn, fuming expression. Why had she accepted the marriage? It seemed ludicrous. She's strong; she would never let herself get bossed about. Even Cal knew it. Surely she didn't love Hadrian? No, no, I remembered the pain on her face as he'd kissed her. I started to run down the air bridge, the urgency to get to her almost painful. I was almost onto the plane when the sharp seeker voice in my head told me to calm down, damn it! And however fast I ran, the plane would still leave at the same time.

I was escorted to my seat by another dumbstruck air hostess, who insisted on bending over to pull up the footrest, waving her bottom in my face. Oh, any other day! Though, that wasn't exactly true – ever since I'd met Morgan, most woman's advances had been dampened somewhat by the thought of my muirn beatha dan.

"Is there anything else I can get you, sir?" The air hostess asked me.

"No," I said a little too sharply, and I suddenly felt almost guilty, "thank you, though" I tried to make it sound like an amend, but by now she was probably thinking I was some fucked up bastard. And I was -- I'd left the love of my life, and things had still worked out the same way.

I dropped gratefully into my seat. First class...oh Goddess, any other day! But the Egyptian thread duvet and cotton pyjamas failed to catch my attention, as did their range of D. R. Harris well-being stuff. Eye gel...well, that sounded horrific anyway.

The intercom came on and the pilot told us they were just waiting on a few more passengers to get to the gate. Goddess, I hated other people at that moment so much. As soon as this was over, the council was buying me a private jet, and an airport, and exemption from security stuff so that I could get to places _before _another person I loved was killed. Every second the idiots who weren't on the plane yet took would lose me more time for saving Morgan.

I sat in painful frustration as I waited. Finally, they got on board and I had to stop the irrational part of me from hunting them down and giving them hell.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome on board this Boeing 747 to New York. Please fasten your seatbelts as we prepare for takeoff. Shortly, we will be showing you a video presentation on the safety procedures on board this aircraft. Even though some of you may be frequent fliers on British Airways, we ask that you watch carefully, as each aircraft is different..." I zoned out from then onwards. We took off and I stared out the window at the lights of London.

They gradually disappeared, and then darkness roamed outside forever. Something a bit like claustrophobia caught a hold of me. I got out of my seat and walked right to the end of the plane and back, and then again. I had to get there now! Something would happen to her and I wouldn't be there to stop it. Night...it would be getting later there now. After ten walks from the back to the front, squeezing past the ever-present lavatory line and drink trolleys, it could've been called extreme pacing. I was turning at the back when my senses prickled something trying to get at me from far away.

'_Hunter,' _

'_Tell me what happened,' _I demanded, finally letting my frustration out on something other than my head.

'_I can't do this for long, I'm feeling pretty weak at the moment, too much long distance calls,' _he thought to me. _'Where are you?'_

'_I'm on the plane, but I've got six hours to go, and another few afterward to get through security and then I have to drive,' I'm sure he could feel my frustration._

'_She's ok, Hunter, Bree's looking after her now,'_

'_What happened? Where did she go off to?'_

'_Hadrian – yes, I'm convinced it's him now – asked her to go for a walk, and he shoved her around a bit because she wanted to practice Magick and he's a strong Catholic,'_

'_It makes sense, it might...' _my heart hardened in my chest,_ '...make the temptation too much,'_

'_And she's not powerful enough to stop him?'_

'_I don't know...' _I'd always been awed by Morgan's power, but I didn't know how to compare her to Hadrian. I'd never seen him use his Magick; accept to take an old witch's powers. I stopped myself, _'is she injured?' _I asked.

Finally, he gave me an answer _'her wrists are a bit bloodied, and I couldn't heal her, he might've sensed it,'_

'_And...' _I asked after a while, _'what about tonight...'_

'_Bree told me she's got it covered,'_

'_You told Bree?' _That wasn't wise...if Cheldon decided to cut off what he knew of Morgan's support, he would know Bree was the closest.

'_I had to; I can't be trying to shield my powers all the time, I need rest, and Morgan needs someone there with her who doesn't need to worry about getting their Magick ripped off them,'_

'_Alright, but no more people should be told, particularly not witches,'_

'_Don't try to boss me around, Niall,' _his tone suddenly turned sharp and harsh, _'you left her, and none of this would've happened if you hadn't, I don't _trust _you, Niall, never think that I do,'_

'_Wouldn't dream of it,'_

'_I'm staying in the Widow's Hotel,' _he told me blankly, _'don't go to Hadrian's house, or Morgan's, if she's there...she's not ready for it yet,'_

'_This is the time she needs me most, Killian,'_

'_No, Hunter, enough surprises for one day,' _and with that, our connection broke off, and I found myself leaning heavily on the back of the last seat. I groaned as nausea reached me and stumbled through the cabin, gripping people's seats to keep me steady. I was too drained to even worry about my love, or Killian or anyone else who...who might come to mind...I slumped into my seat, chucked the duvet over my lap and crashed out, utterly dead to the world.

When I woke, I was almost there...


	4. Chapter 4

I knew he watched me after I told him my excuse. My heart hadn't beaten; it had shaken as I'd told him. Why did he fill me with such dread? He'd just nodded once and walked away with a snarl on his face.

The evening was ending, and I knew it wouldn't be long before we'd walk to his car and he'd drive me off to his mansion. I wanted to test my powers, to make sure they were still there. I didn't understand how he could've stopped my powers. Do everyone's gods exist together? Could they? It seemed more likely that my magick was weakening. And that was bad news.

"Morgan," Mom's voice said blankly from behind me, "I've heard that you think you will not be finalising your marriage tonight," I didn't turn around to look at her, because she scared me. I was afraid for her. I didn't understand what was wrong with her, she sounded like a robot.

"You heard right," I said.

"Morgan, you must,"

"Why?"

"Because it is your duty," I stood up and faced her. We're about the same height, and I could feel my eyes etching burns into her skin.

"We're not in the freaking middle ages, Mom!" I told her. She looked surprised for a moment, then pursed her lips and looked angry. My fists clenched by my side. "What's happened to you? Who the hell are you!" She just turned and walked away again. I was so confused, even though she'd been like this for more than a month now.

"Morgan?" Bree asked tentatively from behind me.

"What, Bree?" I snapped, spinning around to look at her concerned face. The guests were beginning to leave now, and the cleaners were whipping off table cloths and bustling about with mops.

"Are you going to go home with him tonight?" she asked me.

"I don't have a choice," I said for the millionth time tonight. Bree frowned and gave me a tight hug. I pushed back tears before they even reached my eyes. There was no point. Isaac Cheldon was sat in a corner with his uncle, Stuart Afton. They seemed to be arguing fiercely about something. He turned abruptly and strode over to Bree and me.

"I think we will leave now, Morgan," he said stiffly, not bothering to look at me.

"I think Morgan's feeling sick," said Bree quickly. He looked at her as if she were a small, irritating child.

"Is she now?" he said, "I'll take care of her back at my house, Miss. Warren," I gripped Bree's hand, my stomach twisting into a terrible knot. Oh sweet goddess, oh god no! He held his hand out to me, "Morgan," he said demandingly. I shook violently, leaning on Bree for support, dread kindling my entire body. "Morgan," he spoke again. I raised my hand and placed it in his. My other hand gripped Bree's wrist.

"Morgan," she whispered pleadingly, "stay strong...and text me when you get there," she added. I gave her a quick nod and Isaac pulled me away. He clenched my wrist and walked me out of the hall and onto the freezing street. He tugged me round the block to a black Nissan. He opened my door and waiting for me to get in. Then he shut it and went round.

The strong smell of leather made my stomach reel even more. "Put your seatbelt on," he muttered, getting in the other side. He started the engine up and my heart clenched as we drove away. Now it was truly just him and me, alone in a dark car. So what if I had my period? Cheldon probably didn't care. But. He was obviously a stout Christian. I'd been to youth club, despite my dislike of it. He would know that I was 'ritually unclean' at present. I held that close to my heart, but it wasn't what I needed. I needed my power. My power at its best, soaring free, fast and vigilant against the dark night's sky, taking me away from this place.

The road rushed underneath the car, everything was so dark. Cheldon's sharp face was partially lit by the dashboard, showing his scowl and pointed eyebrows. I flicked my eyes back to the road, watching it leave me. Everything that I knew had been taken from me, starting with the end of Hunter. He'd left no note, no words for Alyce to tell me, no signs, no reason...but no blood. He would've died after he left, after I went and knocked on his door that freezing morning to find the house absent. And then from there things had just gone downhill. My sweet, protective father had had a stroke at work and died; now flipping up my whole family. Finding myself already near empty, I looked after Mary K. But my mom had just lost it. That's about all we have left in common: we both lost the loves of our lives. Then she'd found Stuart Afton's brother and she seemed to find some sort of solace in him. They married, but Mom turned into the cold ghost she is now, sending Mary K. Off to boarding school when Isaac Cheldon proposed to me. I hadn't seen Mary K. since, but I'd emailed her. I was glad she wasn't there tonight. To see me like this, so weak.

Everything was still in the car, and as my reminiscing ended, I had a brief relapse "Why did you marry me?" I asked him. It was like I was the only person to make a noise in the entire world at that moment. Cheldon glared at the road ahead.

"I believe you may be a good wife for me," he said heavily, almost like he couldn't be bothered.

"In what way?" I asked curiously. It was the first time I'd ever had a conversation with him.

"In the way a wife ought to be,"

"_In what way, _Mr. Cheldon?" I said stonily.

His eyes flicked to mine and I pulled back in fright. "I believe god sent you to me, so you could be taught the proper way of life as a woman."

"This is twenty-first century America," I told him quietly, hiding my disgust well, "things have changed,"

"They shouldn't have," he murmured. The air turned colder again and the road continued to flash past. Street lights ignored me. They were the only light, and they didn't stay.

We were in the countryside now. He sped up, and the fields blurred into one another. What had my life turned to? I'd had such promise, according to Alyce and Selene Belltower. An old farmhouse slipped past us. Cal...Would being with him have been worse than this? No...I was someone then. I had the strength to fight. But now I didn't. I looked up at the sky. It was cloudy, a charcoal grey. I doubted it would ever clear again. I remembered doing weather magick with Killian a few months ago. Oh how I wished I could do that now, have that sort of power again. Then I wouldn't feel so hopeless. But it was because I felt hopeless that I had no power. I was in a never ending circle now. I was lost.

_Rain began to patter against the windows as I watched Morgan Rowlands commit herself to what will never rightfully be hers. Submission. There is not such an easy way out for her as there are for some people. Granted, it should be the people's choice. But how many times could the world have died if someone had just given up? Morgan Rowlands is a legend. She would find her way back to the great woman she is. Or so I hoped. Cheldon though...how I wanted to look that man in the eyes and make him question himself for once. Decisions are made, and he never goes back on them. Cheldon has never experienced regret. Some would say he was a fatalist. Others that he controls it. _

_Ah, how very amusing._

It was at least an hour's drive before he swerved dangerously into a turnoff. A cobbled road. It led, after about five minutes, into a grand courtyard, lit by outdoor ground lights. I held my breath as he opened my door and let me out into the pouring rain. He led me brusquely by the wrist up the steps and into the house. The hallway had a marble floor. A chandelier hung from the high ceiling, and a grand staircase took up most of the hall.

"Go to bed," he told me. "I hope you feel better in the morning." He led me up the dark cherry wood staircase. I was still in my wedding dress, I realised absently. We reached the second floor and he opened the first door on the left.

The floor to my...our – oh goddess – bedroom was a soft cream carpet. There was a vanity and an on-suite off to one side and a chest of drawers on the other. Another chandelier lit the room, and there were several original, expensive looking paintings on the walls. But it was the bed in the middle which brought more fear into my chest. The big, silk covered bed in the middle of the room, dominating my every thought. I couldn't pull this off for much longer...he'd want to know why I was still having my period five weeks from now...I'm _married _to him for god's sake. Oh sweet goddess...

"Your luggage is in the wardrobe," he told me.

"I didn't pack anything," I murmured.

"Well someone did," he walked out, shutting the door behind me. I looked curiously in the wardrobe. Mom had packed for me. She'd been in my room? Oh goddess; what would she have done with my alter? I zipped open one of the suitcases. There was a _lot _of lingerie, which was certainly not what my normal mother would've done, and then under that was one decent sized t-shirt and some sweatpants. I looked at the t-shirt closer and realised it was a rugby t-shirt...which had seen one too many washes...oh goddess. I threw myself into a corner of the room and clutched it to my chest, shaking with the pain of everything. Hunter...when I'd denied him after coming back from New York, he'd still cared for me, even though I'd been a complete jerk with Killian, and he'd helped me into this t-shirt after I'd thrown up violently in front of him and...Oh goddess!

_Hunter_

As I approached Widow's Vale, I found it so hard, remembering how we'd arrived back here only a few months ago, after Morgan had met Ciaran, and she'd told me at the docks that she no longer loved me. And I knew it was a lie, so did she. And I told her I loved her. I wanted to tell her again, right this minute. But I couldn't. I drove along the very street she lived on. As I approached her house, I felt my chest clench. But there were no lights on, no car parked in the driveway...when I'd just met Morgan, and she'd gone to get her car back after smashing it into Cal Blair's pool house, she was so upset at the hood being a different colour. It seemed so trivial, yet it was one of the many faucets making up my beautiful _muirn beatha dan_. I drove on to Bree's house, where, no doubt, she would be alone.

I knocked on the door. A minute passed before the doorknob turned and the door opened to reveal Bree Warren, Morgan's best friend. "Hunter..." she murmured, looking me up and down with a sad smile on her face. Then she frowned. I felt a sharp sting across my face.

"Ow," I muttered, before she flung her arms around me, enveloping me in a desperate hug.

"You better be back for good, or else I will kill you, damned witch or not" she told me, pulling back. She actually made me grin for a moment. "Come in, my dad's not here, as per usual,"

"Killian told me I'm meant to stay at the hotel," I told her, stepping in anyway.

"Yeah, well I'll call him; you're staying here, so is he. I want to be in on everything that's going on," she walked into the kitchen and bustled around with the kettle.

"Bree, it's not safe..." She turned on me so quickly.

"You haven't spoken to her, Hunter, you have no idea," she said to me bitterly, and then went back to the mugs. "Killian's number's on the fridge, ring him, would you?"

"Don't worry, I can just message him –"

"No, Killian said how much that took out of him. You both have to be at full strength," I shrugged and went in search of a phone. As I dialled the number, I thought of how fast Bree was doing everything. She was nervous; I could pick that up, for Morgan. We both were.

"Extension fifty-two, please," I murmured to the grumpy receptionist. Well, it was four in the morning.

"Killian speaking," I admit, hearing someone on a phone is much better than hearing them in your head. It feels like they're shoving themselves in there as well, which doesn't really fit.

"Killian, I'm at Bree's house. She wants you and me to spend the night here,"

"Oh she always was a bossy boots, that girl," grumbled Killian, probably yanking on pants. "I'll be there soon," he hung up. Bree handed me a cup of beautiful, strong American coffee. Yeah, nothing would ever beat tea, but sometimes the Americans did beat us. Sometimes.

"He's on his way," I told Bree, and we went and sat down in the lounge on opposite sofas. She sat with her knees up, sipping her coffee. We sat in silence for a moment, and I cooled my coffee a little, just like Morgan always used to do. I smiled at the memory of Phoebe exclaiming to me about how _she'd cooled her tea down with her hand! Just like that! _

"Reminiscing?" Asked Bree, the same sad smile on her face. I raised my eyebrows as a 'yes'. "I do that as well sometimes," she murmured. She took a deep sip, her expression was grey. "She never really went back to the way she used to be after you left...she's been empty, Hunter, she doesn't use her magick anymore,"

"What? Why not?" I asked alertly.

"Too many memories, she told me, of you, of the sort of magick you showed her, the beauty of it all," Bree sighed, "it didn't seem right for her,"

"Is she at his house?" I asked. Bree nodded cautiously.

"Don't worry, nothing's going to happen...not tonight, at least," I raised my eyebrows, but she didn't expand. I wanted to get back in my car and go to her, save her, but at least I was partially in control.

"So why did she agree to marry Hadrian?" It took a second before the name clicked into place for Bree, and she shivered.

"Her father died," she told me, "and her mum got into a relationship with Stuart Afton's brother, remember Afton?" I gave an involuntary smile, slipping back to the time when she was still working out whether or not to hate me. "Wakey wakey Hunter!" she said with a little smile, then turned solemn again, "anyway, Isaac Cheldon is Afton's nephew, and that's how Mrs. Rowlands met him. I don't know what an earth happened," she said, frustrated, "he just sort of charmed her into giving him Morgan..."

"He would've used magick," I said, "scheming bastard,"

"Yeah, and so much more," Bree muttered, glaring at the coffee table, "anyway, Mrs. Rowlands – Mrs. Afton, I s'pose – managed to get Morgan to meet with him. She told her that he would offer her money and peace and quiet from the world. Morgan met him, and, granted, he was quite the charmer," I clenched my fist, "don't worry, Hunter, Morgan didn't go for it one bit. In fact, she called him a scheming bastard," I let out a bark of laughter. That was my Morgan, "but then Mrs. Rowlands got really ill and the treatment was extremely expensive. Her new husband went bankrupt a week beforehand, and Mrs. Rowland's only suggestion was for Morgan to marry Cheldon to get the money," sounds very familiar... "And so Morgan accepted his proposal. Her mum got better a week before the wedding, no treatment, nothing,"

"Why didn't Morgan pull out?"

"I don't know...she told me that she didn't want her mother to fall ill again and be in the same situation, but I think it was because she'd just resigned herself to the fact that that was what was happening. She didn't want anything else to go adrift; she just wanted to sit on the course she was set on,"

"Oh Morgan..." I whispered. There was a quick rap on the door, and Bree stood up to get it. "No," I said quickly, "I'll get it," I didn't sense any dark magick, but then, I wasn't sensing much at present, not with my mind overloaded, now more with guilt than ever.

I opened the door and there was Killian, looking as if he'd had no sleep at all. "Niall," he acknowledged, pushing his fingers through his hair.

"Killian," I let him in and shut the door behind him. Bree was back in the kitchen making more coffee. Thank the Goddess.

"Hey Bree," said Killian. She gave him a hug.

"Why doesn't he get a slap?" I asked. Bree laughed. But Killian raised an eyebrow.

"You slapped him? Good, my turn." He turned on me. I tensed. He was my height, but I was bigger than him in the muscle area...but then I deserved it, not that it would ever fully reconsolidate for my leaving.

"Gentlemen," said Bree, stepping in between us a thrusting a cup of coffee into Killian's hand, "not now,"

"But don't you want to –?"

"Of course I do, Killian, but not now, later..." she gave me an analysing look, "when he's least expecting it," I rubbed the back of my neck...ohhh dear... "come on, let's sit down. You haven't heard all of this either, Killian,"

We once again sat down in the lounge, now Killian sprawling over Bree's original seat and Bree sitting on the floor, leaning against the heater. "Right, so she was alright...in theory...about marrying Cheldon, but then came the wedding day,"

"God it was only yesterday..." muttered Killian.

"Morgan had a little wakeup call and realised she didn't want to do this, but it was too late. Everything was arranged,"

"Oh goddess, what have I done?" I groaned, pain in my chest.

"She loved you, Hunter, she really did,"

"Loved me? I guess I don't deserve reprieve for leaving her as I did..." I said quietly.

Bree shook her head slightly; "Hunter, she thinks you're dead," I frowned. Then sat up straighter.

"What?" I asked.

"You left with no word, no letter, no message, no evident reason, what was she to think?" Bree looked at me earnestly. "Hunter, why did you leave?"

"Mmm, yes, Hunter" drawled Killian "do tell,"


	5. Chapter 5

I eventually put on a different t-shirt, one from my other suitcases. Mom had bought me new dresses, several. Quite a few of them were far too big for me. Then I put on the sweatpants. I let down my hair, wiped off my makeup and curled up in a tight ball on the cushioned reading chair in the corner. There was no way I would sleep in that bed. "You are tired," I told myself, "you are sleepy," but for once it didn't work. My powers really were failing me. Instead, I simply clutched my knees tighter to my body and thought about what I'd gotten myself into.

The rain still slashed at the windows. The room was warm, and Isaac Cheldon wouldn't bother me tonight...not too much. I pressed my forehead into my knees. I was in a lee before a storm, I could feel that, but then I felt I wasn't actually anywhere. Not without Hunter. I would be incomplete for the rest of my life. No magick, no parents, no work, no love...no Hunter. Minutes passed, and I sat. I didn't cry. I knew I was slowly wasting away, losing the need to be sad or angry. Losing the need to be loved or happy. Soon the only thing left in me would be fear, but that would go as well, with time I would become the loyal wife I was expected to become. I would live for the man who right now was somewhere in this massive house, praying to some god who would become my own, or doing something inconsequential. A headache began pulsing in my skull. I ignored it. I would become like him. I didn't question this, I accepted it.

I sat curled up in that chair well past midnight, into my first day of wifehood. I'd brought an old jacket of mine around my shoulders, and my forehead rested on my arm. The same thought whizzed around in my head, that I would be a void. Suddenly I realised that it didn't have to be that way. I folded my arms in the darkness. What if I started a new life? A new life without any heartache. What if I could simply start over?

"Morgan." A dark voice awoke me from a dreamless sleep. The day's first rays of sun shone through the window, but dark clouds still dominated the sky. Which would prevail? The headache still pulsed in my head. It hadn't stopped since last night. I looked up from my seat. My husband stood at the door. He was dressed in an expensive-looking black suit and a black shirt without a tie. His eyes were ringed in dark, and the purple scar on his cheek seemed clearer than it ever had before. In his hands he held a cup of something. "How are you this morning?" He asked me.

"Alright," I said. He stepped toward me, and I wanted to step back as well.

"Drink," he said, handing me the cup. I took it, recognizing an order. I sipped, not bothering to look at what I was drinking. It tasted sweet, but then bitter at the same time. But it was hot and woke me up a little. I felt a little better, my headache dulled. I drank hastily, and then my headache was gone. "Better?"

"Yes," I said, wondering how he knew. He smiled at me. It wasn't exactly friendly, but a smile is a smile.

"I have to go to work now, so you have the house to yourself for the day."

"Right," I said.

"Remember what I said, last night," he told me, his black pupils boring into mine.

"I will..." I hesitated, but with that single condemning thought of last night, I continued, "I will be a catholic, like you, if you give me a new life, away from everything else"

"Good, that's what I want anyway," he said with a small, curt smile. He leant down and kissed me lightly on the lips. I sat stock still. Then it was over, and I heard his car engine purr into motion as he pulled out of the courtyard and onto the long driveway. When I could no longer hear him, I didn't let out a held breath, or brighten considerably; I just sat there for another few minutes, listening to the clock tick.

Food. My stomach was a force to be reckoned with. I stood up, my muscles stiff after hours in more or less one position. I looked about again, noticing my wedding dress was still on the floor. I clicked all my muscles back into the right place and went to my bags in hope of a dressing gown. As is Mother Nature's way, I found one at the very bottom of the very last suitcase, after dumping everything else out on the floor. I threw it on and walked out of the room. The mansion was extremely rich, full of plastering and chandeliers, Persian rugs and wide paned corridors. There surely weren't many of these in America. It came straight out of nineteenth century England.

I padded down the hall, looking about at the artwork on the walls. The stair banister had intricate carvings on it, and my feet practically sunk into the plush red carpet. I walked onto the cool marble floor and went through several doors until I found the kitchen. It was state of the art, of course, all shiny stainless steel. I floundered around in the fridge, searching for my diet coke – probably the one thing I would never give up.

It wasn't there. So instead I went for tea and toast. I wondered what tea he had given me this morning, and I went through quite a few piles of teabag boxes before giving up and having the faithful English Breakfast. _Hunter used to make tea when you were ill or upset, he care – _that was the _last time. _I banished those thoughts forever, banished them permanently from my body and mind. That was the past. Magick was the past, school was the past, Mom and Dad were the past, and Hunter Niall was part of the past. Hunter Niall was a man I once knew who did magick and who left. Now I was married to Isaac Cheldon, and that was that.

I was slathering my toast with butter when the phone on the wall rang. I hesitated in picking it up, but then thought it was sort of my house now.

"Hello?"

"Morgan!" Came an exclamation straight into my ear.

"Bree," I said, snapping the lid back on the butter and putting it away.

"How are you, Morgan? Are you okay?" She asked me quickly.

"Yes, of course, Bree," I said, taking the tea bag out and dropping it into a shiny bin.

"Can I come over?"

"Sure," but then I suddenly wasn't sure. I wanted to start a new life, right? That was what Isaac Cheldon was offering me. If Bree was in my life it wouldn't be new.

"Great, see you soon," she quickly hung up. I plonked myself down in a chair at the breakfast table. I didn't want to separate us off straight away, I'd just slowly do it over time, and then I could really begin my new life. I ate my toast quickly, having not eaten much for the past few days. Then I went upstairs and changed into my one pair of jeans and a t-shirt and cardigan. I brushed my hair, not looking at my eyes for some reason.

_Because you will see what you do not think you wish to see, Morgan Rowlands._

After that I wandered around the house. There were at least ten spare bedrooms, all decorated immaculately, and there was a fairytale-like garden in place of a backyard. I didn't go out, but I stared at the roses for at least ten minutes, admiring them. I no longer felt as if I was one with nature, not even partially, but they were pretty. After tearing myself away from the garden, I looked around the two upper floors. On the second floor, two doors away from the bedroom I'd slept in last night, I discovered his office. It was plush and very orderly, with a dominating leather chair and a cherry-wood desk. He must have taken his laptop to work, as there wasn't one here. Framed magazine covers lined the walls. Photos of ISAAC CHELDON: ECONOMICAL GENIUS was on all of them. I studied them, careful not to touch anything. In none of the photos was he actually smiling, but there was a frankness in his eyes and jaw which made me perceive him just a little differently. His lips were a straight line, but maybe there was a slight tilt. I smiled unconsciously back at them.

Just then there was a loud ding-dong which had me jump five feet in the air. "Jesus!" I gasped, before hurrying downstairs to open the door. Bree, Robbie and my mom stood on the other side.

"Morgan!" Said Bree, relief colouring her voice, clasping me in a hug. Reminding myself of my earlier plans, I patted her hesitantly on the back. She pulled back so Robbie could do the same.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you yesterday, Morgan," he said.

"It's alright," I said, remembering it was my mom who'd forbidden any of my other friends from coming aside from Bree. I looked to her now. I was taken aback. She was looking at me again, properly looking at me.

"Morgan," she murmured, before pulling me into a hug. She had lost a lot of weight during her illness, and her bony arms crushed me into he

"Mom," I said. "How are you?"

"Better," she said. I stepped back and let them in. They looked understandably amazed as they looked around the hall. I smiled.

"This is home," I said. Bree suddenly turned back to face me. Her face was almost shocked.

"No it isn't." She said desperately. I frowned.

"Yeah, it is..." I let the silence settle a little, "come on, I'll show you the lounge. It looks out over the garden." Bree shot me a concerned look – practically all that I got from her lately – and they all followed me through the kitchen and into the adjoining sitting room with its French doors and big windows looking out into the garden. I smiled at it, wishing it wasn't raining so we could go out.

"It's lovely, Morgan," said Mom. I smiled.

"Yeah, it is. He probably gets a gardener in or something," I left them on the couch and put the kettle on again. When I came back, Bree and Robbie were whispering heatedly to each other. I raised an eyebrow. Relationship problems? I sat down on one of the lazyboys, stretching. Mom cocked her head to the side.

"Are you happy, Morgan?" She asked. I put a hand to my cheek and hesitated a moment. Then I looked up at her.

"I will be, Mom. I will be."

_Hunter_

"Hadrian came to Widows Vale two years ago," I said, grasping my hands together. I knew I had to tell them, but I didn't particularly want to. Delving back to the pain I felt from leaving Morgan wasn't going to be pleasant. And I'd only imagined myself explaining to Morgan, telling her everything, from the second the thought entered my head to the present, where I would be holding her in my arms...if that was possible. But right now I had to tell Killian and Bree. "He came in search of me. He's a power hunter," I said for Bree's benefit, "he started as an ordinary witch, no more powerful than Cal or Alyce, but he found a spell in his father's library. It was from a book of dark magick, and from what I can tell, it was only as a reference for recognising evil when it happened. His family aren't evil, though not many of them are left now; victim's families have hunted his own in revenge, not that he cares. Anyway, Hadrian found this spell and he performed it, not actually knowing what it was about. It stripped his father's powers."

"Not Stuart Afton's sister, right?" Bree asked.

"No," I said, "Hadrian just wove himself into the Aftons as a way of getting to Morgan."

"Go on," prompted Killian, who, though he'd probably heard this story hundreds of times before, listened intently.

"The spell that Hadrian used – it wasn't just a stripping spell like the ones the council uses. It was a transferral spell, taking one witch's power and putting it into the caster."

"What, so Hadrian has his own powers and his father's?" Said Bree.

"Oh yeah," muttered Killian, "plus a few hundred others,"

"Really?" Said Bree, looking at him with a scared expression.

"The council has counted at least fifty witches who have claimed to have had their magick stolen by him." I said solemnly.

"Oh god..." murmured Bree. Silence ensued for a moment as Bree, and I suspect Killian as well, thought over that figure. Three witches together could cause chaos. Fifty? It was a scary thought, but it was overrun by the thought of my Morgan. Nothing would daunt me, not until she was safe in my arms.

"Anyway," I continued, "after discovering that he could be the most powerful person in his coven, he began using the spell more and more. Not on his family again, for they stayed well clear of him, but on his least favourite people in the coven. And then on the alright people, until the entire coven was wiped out. He was probably about fifteen at the time. Ever since then he's been stealing witches magick. Prodigies, promising young witches, have been robbed by him. Anyone he hears about as having exceptional magick, he goes after."

"And so he went after you," said Bree. I nodded. "Because you're gifted?"

Ah, a time I could once have been cocky in. But I just sighed, "that and the fact that I had something else he wanted."

Killian sat up from his lounging position on the couch. "What?" He asked, his brow creased.

"I have something of a family heirloom which he stole from my grandfather many years ago,"

"Care to elaborate?"

"Not particularly," and we were suddenly back with the same expressions we'd had in the kitchen.

"It could be important. We could trade it for Morgan," he said through gritted teeth.

"It's not quite so easy, Killian," I said. I felt it now, radiating against my chest. "Anyway, Hadrian came after me. It was about a week after I brought Alisa home. I sensed his power when I was scrying at my house. I went out to investigate and there he was, the bastard,"

"So you ran?" Said Bree harshly. I shook my head quickly, knowing what she was thinking of me.

"I stayed. We talked, somewhat briefly. And then he tried to attack me,"

"He _tried?_" Killian looked at me with his eyebrows somewhere around the back of his head. I scratched the back of my neck and said,

"I managed to get away, and I knew that I had to lead him away before he found out who Morgan was, so I left, and he followed,"

"And you didn't tell Morgan why?" Exclaimed Bree. I sighed helplessly.

"If I'd given her even the slightest indication of where I might be or who I was leaving because of, she would have followed me. You know she would have."

"Yeah, you didn't help anyone by doing it. He's obviously found out anyway," said Killian.

"Obviously," I murmured. Silence ensued again. _Oh sweet Morgan, I'm so, so sorry... _I thought it over and over as if it could help. I wondered what she was thinking, if she was scared, or angry, or...or happy? I had to get her back, fast. I shifted in my seat, wishing more than anything that I could simply see her, hold her. I remembered back to when I met Hadrian. The forces he had thrown onto me were like getting hit by a lorry, but I had been protected – barely. I knew Morgan and I together could beat him, but I didn't want her to be caught in this. Doubtless she would be weak...

"Why hasn't he stripped her powers yet?" Bree asked quietly. I took in a breath.

"I guess he thinks he's got time," said Killian, and in the most affectionate I'd seen him, he reached across and patted her hand, "don't worry, he doesn't."

"He might," I said. "We will need more than just me and Killian to beat him."

"We'll need the entire freaking population of witches in the world to beat him," Said Killian.

"No we don't," I said.

"You're not as bad-ass as you think you are, Niall," he snarled.

"Neither are you Killian," I retorted, "don't you think you got here just a little late?"

"At least I was _here,_" he said. I stood up.

"I _am _here, Killian!" I growled. He stood then as well.

"Yes, two years late!"

"You didn't even check to see who the hell your sister was marrying! Clearly you were two years late as well!"

His jaw tightened. "At least I bothered to keep in touch! At least I didn't run away like a coward!" I took a step towards him.

"I did it to protect Morgan! Do you think that is cowardly—"

"Why hasn't he killed her?" Bree said desperately.

"Because he likes to play with things!" Killian roared. Instead of backing down, Bree stood up like the two of us and lifted her eyes to Killian and mine's height.

"Your arguing," she said quietly, "is not going to help us in the slightest. There are questions that need answering before we can go any further, people who need to be alerted and called up to help. All of this is going to take time, and the longer you two stand there arguing about your damned male prowess, the longer Hadrian has to strip Morgan's powers. This is _power stripping. _If that happens to Morgan, she will die, you know she will."

I felt a new amount of respect for Bree. Out of the three of us, she had known Morgan the longest, she loved her just as much as we did, and she was the one who was calm and ready for action. She was right, Killian and I were messes. I plonked back down on the couch again, as did a sheepish Killian. I didn't like to admit it, but I was feeling sheepish too.

"Right," said Bree. "We need to work out how much time we have to work with. Hunter, what are his patterns? How does he deal with people? Fast?"

"Usually right away," I said, flicking back to when I'd spent hours in the council archives in Belfast, searching for information about him.

"So why would he leave it as long as he has? Why bother marrying her?" We sat, thinking over this. Bree was right – again – it was odd that Hadrian would wait so long to take her powers. He must be tempted by them.

"What has Morgan got that would take time to get?" I wondered aloud.

"Her magick is the only thing that would appeal to him, surely?" Said Bree, "there's no way of using her as a slave or anything, right?"

Killian snorted. "Very unlikely,"

"But what if he knows her true name," I said, folding my arms in thought, "something like that is possible,"

"Then I have to go and check on her," said Bree, getting up.

"What?" I exclaimed, "Bree, he could kill you if he's there."

"It's a Monday; he'll be at work,"

"Evil, power thieving witches don't generally work, Bree," said Killian.

"He does," Bree said, grabbing her jacket from a hook by the door, "he owns that toy factory, remember."

"A toy factory?" I said with a raised eyebrow.

"Even evil, power-thieving witches need money,"

"He might stay home today, though, make sure Morgan doesn't do anything stupid," said Killian.

"Even if he is there, he won't want to cause any alarm to Morgan by blowing up her best friend."

"Bree," I said, standing up again. "You can't go; Morgan will kill me if something like that happens to you,"

"What if I ring first?" Bree asked. I hesitated. Just to hear Morgan's voice over the phone...

"Yeah, that'd be alright," said Killian. Bree went and grabbed a phone. She dialled a number on a piece of paper.

"Put it on speaker phone," I said quickly, my heart thudding strongly in my chest. She did so and put it on the coffee table. I leaned forward, listening intently. It was picked up on the fifth ring.

"Hello?" I had to put a fist to my lips. Her voice, Morgan's voice, oh goddess...

"Morgan!" Bree sounded so relieved. She paced in front of the table.

"Bree," said Morgan. I took a gulp of air and leaned in closer. Bree looked at me and grinned when she saw my face.

"How are you, Morgan? Are you okay?" She asked her. I had such an urge to say something, to tell her I was still here, still alive, and that I loved her and I was just so sorry for everything. Killian must have guessed this, and shook his head slightly in warning.

"Yes, of course, Bree," I noticed Morgan's voice was a little colder, but I didn't care. I was glad she was alright, though.

"Can I come over?"

"Sure," she said, hesitation bordered her voice. Bree frowned.

"Great," she said, "see you soon," and before I had a chance to grab the phone, Bree had hung up. She giggled. I looked her with a raised eyebrow. "Oh!" She cried, "The look on your face, Hunter! Killian, imagine if the wind changed!"

Killian gave her a warm smile, and we both stood to walk her to the door. "I'm going to take Robbie with me," said Bree.

"Bree, we can't tell anyone else about it, not any non-witches, at least," I told her.

"He's Morgan's second best friend," she said, "he already knows what a mess she's in, and about the wedding, he deserves to know about this,"

Killian and I both hesitated. "But you're putting his life in danger," Killian pointed out.

"You know he'll want to know," said Bree. Killian and I exchanged a glance, and, hesitantly – and for the first time – we agreed.

"But you have to remember not to say a word about this to Morgan," I warned as she fished her keys out, "if Hadrian notices any difference in her, if he finds out she knows who he is, he'll kill her, and then all of us, all her friends and family. And we still don't know if he's in the house or not."

Bree nodded gravely and got in. Killian shut her door and she revved the engine and left. Killian shook his head, "that girl will almost certainly be the death of us,"

"To be sure," I agreed. We went back inside as the weak sun rose in the sky.

"I need some Twinings," Killian muttered.

"That makes two of us," I said, putting the kettle on again. It was silent in Bree's kitchen, we looked guardedly at each other.

"Look," said Killian, finally. "At least until we get Morgan back, we should stop trying to rip each other's heads off," I nodded. "We'll 'discuss' this when it's all over."

I got off the counter and offered my hand. He shook it, our eyes still slightly wary. The kettle clicked, and I poured into a neglected, chipped tea pot. I dumped some hopefully not stale English Breakfast teabags in and put the lid on. "So," I said, "should we call in other witches, or take our chances?"

"Are there enough around here?" He asked me.

"Yes," I said, already writing a list in my head. "And they'll all be willing to fight...but we'll be putting them in danger,"

"Will you call in the council?" I'd already thought about this, and, whilst we could use the extra magick, they would get in the way with strategic plans and laws and things which we didn't have the time for. They would take over the entire thing. They'd be more focused on catching Hadrian than saving Morgan. That could be all the difference between life and death for her.

"No," I said, "they'll screw everything up, as per usual," he nodded.

"Right, we have to get in touch with the witches closest to her, the ones who will want to fight, even if they do know about the danger."

"Have you got numbers?"

"I transferred a few onto my phone, and Bree must have a phone book around here somewhere," I grabbed a piece of scrap paper and wrote down a list. Then, we sat down, armed with Bree's laptop, my blackberry – iphones should be burned at the stake -- Killian's iphone – surprise surprise – Bree's house phone, a phone book and a large pot of life-saving tea.

"Witches call centre," I muttered, putting the first number in on my list. Killian gave a grunted laugh.

"Hello, this is Practical Magick,"

"Alyce!" Even if I couldn't talk to Morgan, talking to my old friends was going to give me some consolation.

"Hunter?" She sounded so surprised.

"Hello," I said, not quite sure what to say next.

"Oh thank the Goddess; you're alive!" She exclaimed. I let out a laugh.

"Yes," Morgan clearly wasn't the only one to think that.

"Are you back in Widow's Vale?" She asked me shakily.

"Yes,"

"Have you..." her voice was tentative, "have you seen Morgan?"

"Sort of...Alyce," I remembered there were other people I had to call, "when did you last see Morgan? Has she told you what's been happening?"

"Yes," she sighed, "well, I heard about the, uh, marriage from someone else, I haven't spoken to Morgan for at least a year. I'm so sorry Hunter, you must be devastated."

"I just want her back," I said.

"But she's married, Hunter," said Alyce, and I heard the desperation in her voice.

"I know, Alyce, that's why I need you to come over to Bree Warren's house...Morgan's married Hadrian,"

"Hunter...are you sure? That's a little...farfetched?"

"Yes," I said, "please, come over and I'll explain everything. I know it's all my fault Morgan stopped her magick,"

"Okay," said Alyce hesitantly. We hung up. I saw Killian had gotten through two; Bethany Malone and Suzanna Mearis. We rang a lot of witches from Starlocket; many of them knew Morgan from when she attended their circles...when she'd been avoiding me. I had two left to go on my list when Bree's home phone rang.

"Hello?" I said.

"Hunter, it's Bree," she said. I sat up straight. She sounded worried.

"What is it?"

"Don't worry, it's not about Morgan, exactly...Morgan's mom was at Robbie's house dropping off one of the brides maid dresses and she saw us and guessed where we were going and she wants to come as well, to give Morgan some more instructions about her marriage."

"Do you think she's been influenced by Hadrian?"

"Yes," said Bree, "look, Robbie can't keep her talking about the wedding for much longer, can you do anything to stop his hold on her?"

"I think I can," I said, "give her the phone,"

"Right," there was a bit of movement and crunches.

"Who is this?"

"_Ní thagann sé a thuilleadh_" I said as smoothly as I could. I heard the phone hit the ground. Killian looked at me in surprise.

"What did you just do?"

"I tried to unblock the emotions Hadrian's blocked in Morgan's mum. It won't have worked very well, though; it won't have gotten the full way through."

"You can do that down a phone line?"

I shrugged, "it's the twenty-first century, isn't it?" The phone rang again. I picked it up.

"Thanks, Hunter, she seems a little...warmer," Bree was talking very quietly.

"Right," I said, "remember, be careful about what you say, and ring us in an hour or two to let us know you're still alright,"

"'kay, bye," I heard a car door shut and she hung up. I stretched and yawned, then I poured Killian and me some more tea from our second pot.

Then I rang Athar in France.

"Hunter?" She answered immediately.

"Sky I'm sorry I didn't call," I decided the best way to avoid a cousinly lecture was to get on with it, "Morgan's married Hadrian."

"Hadrian?" Sky said, clearly startled.

"And he's playing the faithful Catholic."

"You are sure?"

"_Yes,_" I said. I'd been asked that in every phone call so far.

"How do you know?"

"I scryed," I said impatiently, "she was marrying him, and he turned around and it was him. Sky, please believe me,"

"No, I do, Hunter," she said, "Do you want me to fly to New York?"

"Yes, if you can. We should be able to manage without you, but if you can at all...I'll pay for you,"

"Of course I'll come, Hunter. How long do you think we have before he makes a move?"

"We're not sure – Killian and Bree are with me – we don't know why he hasn't stripped her magick already,"

"Right, we'll work it out," she said with utter certainty, "I'll be there as soon as I can."

"How's Da?" I asked quickly.

"He's in good shape, he's joining the circles again, and he's doing simple spells. Mostly he's just frustrated, and no doubt what's happening in America will get him doubly so."

"I don't want him anywhere near Hadrian again. It was so dangerous last time,"

"Don't worry about Uncle Daniel, Hunter, he'll be looked after. He's thinking of heading back to England, though, and seeing Shelagh again."

"Right," I said, "cheers, Sky, you're the best cousin in the world,"

"Oh stop crawling, Giomanach, I'll have to drag you off to someplace you don't want to go some time. Just make sure Killian keeps pants up and away from me,"

"Oh I will," I said.

"Be careful," she said, "bye,"

"Bye,"

There was just one last person to ring. Alisa. I hesitated in dialling. Alisa was still so young. She would be in her second to last year at high school. But then, she was so strong, and I knew she'd want to know about it. I dialled her mobile number, not wanting to have to deal with her father. It took a while for someone to answer.

"Who is this?" I almost slammed the phone down in shock. I elbowed Killian, who was between calls, and thrust the phone into his hands and put a hasty finger to my lips. I hurriedly scribbled on a piece of paper: _Hadrian._

_Please review! They're my inspiration food :D_


	6. Chapter 6

_Thanks for the reviews! They are so helpful when I get stuck!_

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"Morgan," Bree said, putting a hand on my knee, "are you going to come back to school?"

"I don't think so," I said, my new life in mind, "why bother?"

"Why bother?" Exclaimed Bree, hurt and shock on her face, "Morgan, its school! Have you lost your aspirations? Your goals?"

I sighed wearily, "Bree, it's just that there's no point, and I'm married now, I have other things to do. If I want to learn something I have enough money now to get a really good tutor, and it's too far to travel every morning."

"Then come and stay with me!" She cried, and I felt a little guilty.

"Bree...look I just want to start over, you know? With all that's happened, and Isaac's offering me a way out of it all,"

"Oh what by stripping your powers?" Spat Bree.

"_Bree!_" Robbie exclaimed.

"I am _choosing _to become a Catholic; I don't need to strip my damned magick, why can't you be open minded?"

"Morgan," said Robbie, taking over from Bree. "Please, just come to school, there's just a year left; it'll give you something to do."

"Please just drop it, Robbie, I don't want to," he frowned, but sat back.

"Morgan, why don't you give us a tour of the house?" Said my Mom, the only one of the three who seemed even remotely capable of accepting and understanding me.

"Sure," I said, and stood up, plonking down half a cup of tea on the table. I led them out of the lounge without looking at Bree. I showed them my room, Isaac's office, all the spare bedrooms, the front room, the music room, which contained a beautiful black grand piano. I wondered if he played. Mom ooed and ahhed at the fact that we had a wine cellar. The trapdoor was in the larder, but it had been locked, so I wondered if he used it anymore. We ended up back at the bedroom. Mom said she wanted to show me some of the clothes she'd packed and help put them away, so we went in. Robbie stood detachedly off to the side – this wasn't exactly his idea of fun – and Bree wandered about looking at the room. Mom excitedly unzipped the first suitcase and started transferring clothes to the coat hangers in the wardrobe.

"This one goes so well with your eyes, sweety," she said, holding up an emerald green dress. "I wondered whether to go for the blue, but I know Mary K. always dressed you in green if she could."

"Mom...how is Mary K.? Have you talked to her?"

Mom hesitated in putting the dress away. A strange expression came across her face. "Mary K." she murmured, then looked up at me as if she'd just realised or remembered something. "I will, as soon as I get home. It's been months!"

"Right, just make sure she's safe and everything,"

We went on unpacking. Bree stopped her wandering and came and helped. She held up a lacy black thong with a raised eyebrow. "Morgan?" she accused.

"Oh yeah, Mom," I remembered, "why did you buy me all this lingerie?"

Mom finished folding a cardigan and putting it in the drawers. "Because you're married, Morgan," she said incredulously. Oh dear, this was gonna be awkward. "I know you haven't made love yet, and I'm very glad as the Lord doesn't permit it before marriage, but now..." she smiled at me.

"Oh," I said, a blush sweeping my face.

"I really don't think you need to think about that yet, Morgan," said Bree suddenly appearing in front of my face. "_Don't,_" she willed me. I turned away and collected up a few more skirts to fold. Making love with Isaac...I hadn't thought about it since last night...but Mom was right, Isaac was my husband, and I wanted to seal that bond, and it would bring us closer together. Thinking of this brought up the memories of my short experience in near love-making. I quickly shoved them back, and looked at the lingerie Bree had dumped in disgust on the floor.

After almost two hours of clothes folding, we retreated back to the lounge, where Mom put the kettle on again. Bree snuggled up to Robbie on the couch, his arm protectively around her. I sat back down in the lazy boy, crossing my legs. It was getting stormier outside; I watched the rose bushes throw themselves back and forth with the wind. "So, what have you been up to lately?" I asked Robbie.

"Not much. Mr. Sanders has been asking me for my English paper for ages now and I still haven't given it in, so I've been doing that. Bree and I went and saw a movie with Simon and Jenna the other night,"

"And we went to the Kithic circle, of course," said Bree tightly.

"Really?"

"Yup," she said, popping the 'p'. The room was quiet. It wasn't exactly awkward, but it was like a line was being drawn between the couch and my seat. Me, them; no us. I continued watching the rain lashing the windows. It would be better this way anyway; it would be easier to get into my new life if I was divided from them. Everyone, though, jolted when Bree's ringer went off. She swiftly took it out of her pocket and put it to her ear.

"What?" She exclaimed, leaping up and into the hallway. I heard the brief babble of a man's voice on the other side. I raised my eyebrow at Robbie, who looked worried. I interpreted it.

"Do you think she's cheating on you?" I asked bluntly, figuring he might want to talk about it. "With the guy on the phone?"

"Huh?" He asked, waking from a stupor, "no, no," he said shaking his head, "um, it's just her Dad. He's been thinking about permanently moving to New York City,"

"With Bree?" I asked, shocked.

"Yeah," he said, looking at the black and white cushion next to him.

"When?" I asked, unable to stop myself. Bree, leaving? That wasn't possible. She'd been here since I'd been here. We'd done everything together...how could she possibly leave?

_Contradictory to a thought ten seconds earlier..._

"Not sure," said Robbie, sounding like he didn't want to talk about it. I didn't push it. Bree came back in shortly, looking flustered.

"Robbie, we've got to go," she said, grabbing her jacket from the back of the couch.

"Bree you can't go to New York," I said, standing up. She looked confused for a second.

"Was your Dad ringing about selling the house?" Robbie asked her, getting into his own jacket.

"Oh, yeah, um sure," said Bree dismissively.

"Well isn't that kind of a big deal that you haven't mentioned to me?"

"Look, we'll talk later, but Robbie and I really have got to go," said Bree, walking out into the hall, "Mrs. Rowlands, are you coming with us?"

Mom had just finished making tea. "Well I suppose I'd better, the wedding decorations still need to be taken down," she said, and enveloped me in a hug. I hugged back.

"Come and see me again some time," I said to her.

"Of course, honey," Robbie led them out the door, but Bree turned back and threw her arms round my shoulders.

"Oh Morgan," she murmured, "Please keep your wits about you!" I hugged her back, trying to comfort her, though I wasn't sure what for.

"Bree," said Robbie, putting a hand on her shoulder, "come on, you said it was urgent."

"Right," she said, pulling herself away from me.

I stood at the door and watched them go. It would be sad to keep myself away from them, but at the same time, the thought of a new life was so tempting. Nothing but the future to watch...and the past would be gone, just gone.

When the last sounds of Robbie's droning car faded I went back inside, stretching my arms up in the air. Sleeping in a chair last night had certainly taken its toll on me.

The clock on the kitchen wall told me it was twelve-thirty. I went in search of lunch. The fridge was well stocked with just about everything. I wondered whether if I searched hard enough I'd find caviar. I grabbed bread and some other stuff and made myself a sandwich, then sat at the big dining table to eat it.

Afterwards, I was at a loss to know what to do. I yawned and decided I'd put the massive flat-screen set into the lounge wall to use. I watched some overexcitable home owners trying to sell their house for about an hour before my eyes began to droop, and I fell asleep.

I was the sort of stage of sleep where you know you're dreaming, that you only have a few seconds left before having to return to reality. It was still in my dreams where I heard the unmistakable Gaelic words: _tá mé chomh mór sin i ngrá leat, tá mé chomh doirtesin duit_;_. _I didn't know what they meant, though, and was at a loss to remember how they sounded as I was slowly pulled out of my dreams. I opened my eyes. A blanket had been thoughtfully placed over me, and the TV turned off. I stretched my once again cramped muscles, though the couch was a step up from a straight-backed reading chair. The wind and rain continued its bombardment of the dark garden outside. Standing up, I wrapped the blanket around me to keep me warm and went out into the hall and up the stairs. I found Isaac in his study. "Come in," he said when I knocked on the door. I stepped in. The room was warmly lit by a lit fireplace and sconces round the walls. Isaac sat at his desk with his laptop. The light made him look gentler somehow, making his cheek glow gold. He looked up at me and shut off his laptop and came to me. "How are you?"

"Fine," I said, admiring his dark beauty. "And you?"

"I had a bad day at work," he murmured, putting a cool hand on my cheek.

"What happened?" I asked, enjoying the feel of his touch.

"Oh just stocks and shares and things," he said dismissively. He surveyed my face. "Are you hungry?"

"Not really," I said. I bit my lip, thinking about my Mom had said to me earlier when we were unpacking. "I was thinking...we're married..." I trailed off, not having any idea of how to go about it. He nodded. "And, well...it's not exactly um...official yet?" I said it as a question.

"Ah," he said lightly. The silence would have been awkward with anyone else but him. "Are you better, from last night?"

I nodded, and my stomach was filled with nervous butterflies. He nodded and took my hand, leading me out of his office and into my room.

_Hunter_

"Where's Alisa?" Killian asked in an extremely good American accent, after he'd read my scribbled note. He was extremely smooth. My heart thrummed in my chest. Why the hell did Hadrian have Alisa's phone?

"Who are you?" I heard him ask again through the speaker phone. That voice...it made me crush my fists in anger.

"I'm her friend. Who are you?" Killian asked.

"Why should I tell you?" His voice asked tauntingly. This was going nowhere. 'Police' I mouthed to Killian.

I had to admit, he was a damned good actor. "I'll call the police!" He said, gritting his teeth.

"They won't be able to do anything, I assure you," Hadrian's cool, calm voice irritated me beyond rational thought.

"Is she alright?" Asked Killian.

"For the time being," he said.

"Let me talk to her," begged Killian pleadingly, though his eyes were flaming.

"Don't worry, you'll get her back soon enough," said Hadrian, then he hung up. Killian slammed the phone down.

"What the _fuck?_" He cursed.

I was already dialling Bree's number. I didn't wait for a greeting. "Hadrian's got Alisa," I said.

"What?" She exclaimed. I heard her walking into another room. Was she with Morgan?

"I rang Alisa's phone, Hadrian answered,"

"Shit, does he know you're back?"

"No, but we have to get Alisa away from him."

"You think he'll strip her powers?"

I inhaled, rubbing my cheek wearily, "It's what he does," I said, "he said we'd 'get her back soon enough'. He _must _be stripping her powers if he's going to let her go afterwards."

"Oh god, look we'll leave as soon as we can. I've got a lot to tell you."

"Is Morgan still okay?" I asked, another shot of worry hitting my chest.

"She's _too _okay," said Bree, and I frowned in confusion, "later, Hunter," she told me, "we'll be there soon." She hung up.

"So Hadrian's going to strip Alisa's powers?" Killian asked.

"I s'pose he needs to satisfy his addiction," I said.

"That bastard," spat Killian. "We should check her house; see if her Dad saw her leave."

"She'd have been at school, though, wouldn't she?"

"Then let's go there," said Killian, "I'll leave a note for Bree,"

"Right," I grabbed my car keys and jacket and headed out. Killian swiftly joined me. "American cars..." I murmured, shoving my key into the ignition, "why on earth do they have to drive on the wrong side of the road?"

Killian laughed, "and on the wrong side of the car."

"Insanity." I knew we were just trying to release the nervous tension. Things were now in motion, it was time for quick thinking. I backed out of Bree's driveway and onto the road. I wished for the speed of my Lexus, but I put up with the rental car's sixty, ready with a glamour for any police who might choose to irritate me.

"If we find out where she is, you know you can't come to help save her, we'll need Alyce and the others. We're still facing the same man."

I nodded, "I know. But we can't possibly get everyone together before Hadrian makes his move. I might have to," the car was silent. I realised that if I went in and saved Alisa, I wouldn't have a chance at saving Morgan – Hadrian would know I was here, and he would take my love away from me, or do whatever he was planning to do even faster.

We were at the school within fifteen minutes. We got out, heading for the cafeteria. We were fortunate it was lunchtime, otherwise we would've had to have waited.

We entered through a side door. The smell of fries and tomatoes hit me like a truck. I'd never gone to a big college – or high school, rather – when I was at school. I'd gone to a tiny school on some ragged cliffs just North of my village. Truth be told, I learnt hardly anything there. My Uncle taught me all I needed to know in the afternoons – school was just a necessity. Besides, physics and George Orwell don't help much when it comes to being a seeker.

I looked at Killian, who seemed right at home with all the people around. He reminded me of Cal, being able to fit in anywhere, though where Cal, the bastard, had been subtle, Killian was anything but.

It was Jenna who saw us first. None of the other students took any notice of us. Na, just some British witches inquiring over a girl who was going to get stripped of her magick. "Hunter!" Jenna exclaimed, leaping up from her seat at one of the tables. We went over to her. I realised that it was the same table I'd sat at two years ago with Morgan, and with more or less the same people around it. Simon Bakehouse, Matt Adler, Jenna Ruin, Ethan Sharp, Sharon Goodfine and Raven. What was she still doing here?

"Oh my _god,_" said Sharon in a hushed voice, "you're here."

"Hey, don't I get a hello?" said Killian, playing hurt as he came up by my side.

"Killian," acknowledged Raven in her cold voice. I grinned. I had missed my coven, even though I'd gone back to my Da's coven for a little. They were such a mix of spirits, but we formed together into something beautiful. I wanted to see it again...though I wasn't sure what it would be like without Morgan.

"Morgan's not here," said Jenna sympathetically.

"Oh we know," said Killian. I glanced at him. We'd forgotten to discuss whether we should tell them about everything or not. _Why not? They could help._ I heard his voice in my head.

_We have to make sure they keep quiet, though _I told him. He nodded.

"Have you guys seen Alisa today?" I asked.

"Yeah, why?" said Matt. I looked at Killian, then back to Kithic.

"She's in trouble," I said.

"What sort of trouble? Seeker trouble?" Asked Sharon, alarmed. Ethan wrapped an arm round her waist.

I made a face, "dark magick sort of trouble."

"What?" Exclaimed Jenna.

"It's a long story," I said, not wanting to divulge into too many details. I didn't want to have to explain all the details. I turned to Matt, "When did you last see her?" I asked.

"She's in my Chem class...I sort of got set back a year...she asked to go to the nurse, she had a really bad headache, I think that's what she said." A headache? I thought about it. I remembered, when I'd been scrying and had realised Hadrian was looking for me, I'd been thrown out of my own circle by a massive stabbing pain in my head. It had been absolutely awful.

"What's going on?" Asked Ethan.

"You heard about Morgan's marriage, right?"

"Who didn't," muttered Raven, "even I thought it was a little extravagant for trying to get you jealous," I tried to ignore her comment.

"Carry on, Hunter," said Sharon in exasperation.

"The man she's marrying is a very powerful witch," I told them. "And we've just found out he's kidnapped Alisa."

"What!" Cried Jenna. Now every one of them looked alarmed. Except maybe Raven, but that's just Raven.

"That's why we need to know where she was last seen. Do you know if she went home?"

"No, sorry," said Matt, shaking his head.

"We can show you where the nurse's office is, she might know something," offered Simon.

"Cheers," I said. They all stood up like a mob. They lead us through a set of double doors into a near empty corridor.

"Have you seen Morgan?" Sharon asked me as we walked.

"No," I said.

"She really changed when you left, you know," she said, "and not in a good way." I just nodded with a tight jaw, trying not to let the guilt overwhelm me.

"Here it is," said Simon, stopping at a door with a big sunflower sticker on it.

"Right, cheers again," I knocked and the door and an woman's voice called,

"Come in!" I stepped in. It was a pretty basic med room, with posters of Disney stars on the walls and how-to CPR charts. The nurse, who was a lady of maybe mid-forties, looked surprised and a little confused.

"Sorry, um, miss," I was making a complete dogs breakfast of this, "I'm Alisa Soto's brother," because I look like such a Latin-American. "Step brother, actually, do you know where she's gone? I heard she was sick." The nurse frowned for a moment.

"She was picked up by her friend about a half hour ago," she said. What sort of a teacher or nurse lets a kid get collected in the middle of the day by her friend? It's pretty much another way of saying 'bunking'.

"Do you know his name?" I asked with big brotherly concern.

"Charlie, I think that's what she said when she called him,"

"Right, thanks," I said, and left. Kithic and Killian waited for me outside. "Your school needs a new nurse, she gives information out like aspirin."

"Yeah," said Raven happily, "the number of time she's let me out 'cause I 'had a headache',"

"What did she say?" Asked Sharon uneasily.

"Alisa was picked up by Charlie Findgoll,"

"Oh that boyfriend she keeps texting after circles?"

"Probably," I said.

"So what are you going to do?" Asked Jenna.

"Try and find Charlie's number, find out where he dropped her off,"

"How do we know Charlie's not helping this guy?" Asked Simon. I almost laughed.

"I assure you, Hadrian works alone,"

"Can we come with you?" Asked Jenna.

I shook my head, "he's the most dangerous witch in the world, Jenna."

"But Alisa and Morgan are with him! You can't go against him alone!"

"Oh no, Hunter's got some mystical magic weapon which makes him think he's immortal," drawled Killian. I shot him a glare.

"Please, we'll keep you posted on what's happening, but it's best if you stay out of it,"

Jenna looked unhappy about this, but Simon put an affectionate arm around her shoulder. "We need to get going," muttered Killian. I nodded. It looked like they all had several more questions they'd like to share, but at that moment the bell rang for lunch to end. I was so unaccustomed to the sound that I jumped five feet in the air. Raven snorted.

"Tell us everything that happens, Hunter," said Sharon, "we may not be blood witches, but we have got a right to know how our friends are."

I nodded, and they left to go to their classes. "Well," said Killian as we walked along the corridor and out into the rain, "Sharon pretty much nipped it in the bud."

"They're even more vulnerable than we are. I said what I had to."

"I suppose, though I know exactly where they're coming from," I glanced at Killian from the corner of my eye. I'd never thought him one for compassion...though it shouldn't have surprised me. He did care for a lot of people, just quietly. He didn't often ask for thanks.

"So how do we go about finding Charlie Findgoll?" I pondered.

"We could scry for him," said Killian.

"What if Hadrian's got him?"

"Then we should ring Bree and ask if she's got his number." A blue BMW suddenly pulled up into the carpark.

"Speak of the devil," I murmured. Bree and Robbie hopped out.

"Hey," she said, hurrying towards us, "any news? Do you know where she is?" Robbie followed her.

"No, but do you have Charlie Findgoll's number?"

"Who – oh, Alisa's boyfriend, I don't," she said.

"Guys," said Robbie, "I think it's probably a good idea if we leave now, before the teachers spot us. We're sort of bunking, if you know what I mean,"

"Right," I said, "let's meet at the coffee emporium down the road, and see if we can work our way out of this dead end,"

We split back to our cars. I was just unlocking the door when Killian called over from the other side, "Hunter, stop!" I felt him cast out his senses and wished I could do the same, but I didn't for fear of alerting Hadrian. Killian began walking to the large copse of trees I'd once met Morgan in. I followed. The tree provided shelter from the rain. Killian walked about three paces forward before I heard it myself. A sort of grunt or a moan of pain. Killian walked round a tree and cursed.

"Killian, what is it?" I asked. I came around. There, lying in the dirt was a red haired boy, maybe a year younger than me, blood oozing out of a long cut down his left cheek.

"Is your name Charlie?" I asked. Somehow I knew.

"Yes," he whispered in a weak voice.

"What's happened to Alisa?"

"A witch took her," he said, and coughed up blood. "Said something about the cemetery." I groaned. But of course. Those Ley Lines were used for everything involving dark magick. Why not a bit of power stripping, too? I looked at Charlie Findgoll, a grimace of total pain on his face.

I touched held my hand over his stomach and felt the heat against my chest. I felt his bruised stomach heal a little, and I figured it would be enough. "Don't ask," I told him. Charlie Findgoll's breathing slowed a little as he sat up, feeling his bloody cheek. "Did he say anything else?" I asked.

Charlie shook his head. "No, but we have to find Alisa...who are you two?"

"I'm Hunter, Alisa's former coven leader," goddess, it hurt to say that. I wondered who had taken over.

"Oh, she told me 'bout you," he said. I smiled sadly. I wondered what. Alisa had always been teetering on the fence about the whole prospect of magick. She'd only decided a week before I left that she would commit herself to the craft, well, at least, I knew she would, in time. I wondered if my leaving had changed that, though, of course, she had an entire witch family, and the coven.

"And this is Killian," I introduced him. "Can you walk?" I asked, standing up.

"Yes," he said, "whatever you did helped," he stood a little shakily, and we walked to the car.

"What exactly happened?" Killian asked him.

"Alisa called me to collect her because she had a headache. I got out of my car to meet her and she was suddenly thrown away from me by something. After that I just remember him murmuring about the cemetery and I blacked out and woke up where you found me."

We approached the car park "Where an earth did you guys go?" Asked Robbie, who was standing next to Bree by my car.

"Who's he?" Asked Bree.

"Charlie Findgoll,"

"Oh you found him!" cried Bree.

"And we know where Alisa could be,"

"Where?"

"The Cemetery everyone seems to flock to. I didn't think he'd be so predictable,"

"Just because it's predictable doesn't mean it's not going to be insanely difficult." Killian pointed out, sadly honest.

Bree was looking Charlie up and down, "do you need a doctor?" She asked.

"Nah, I'll be fine," he said, leaning heavily on the car.

"Bree, we need someone to go and scope out the cemetery, see if she's there..." I looked at her helplessly.

"I'll go," offered Charlie.

"No," said Bree, "he'll sense you, you're a blood witch. I can't be easily sensed, I'm human, as it were," she explained. Charlie looked like he was about to complain, but I overtook him.

"Be careful, just search for sigils and if you do see Alisa, don't alert her to your presence. He could be watching." Bree nodded calmly and they once again headed for her car. Killian, Charlie and I went back to Bree's house to sit and wait.

Charlie went to sort out his scratches, Killian set about making another pot of tea, and I was left, sitting on the couch. I was still jetlagged, and round about now I wanted nothing more than to go to sleep, save one thing, of course. Knowing that I could do nothing until Bree got back, I put a cushion under my head and was immediately taken by the beautiful thoughtlessness of sleep.

But then I began dreaming. It was cloudy, but the sun was still fighting to get out. A bird flew overhead, and a cool breeze brushed my cheek. I was standing on the pavement outside Morgan's house. I felt all my magical barriers up around me, stopping the girl I loved from knowing I was there. I drew Ing, the rune for common sense and love and warmth on the concrete. _Tá mé chomh mór sin i ngrá leat, tá mé chomh doirtesin duit. _It was one of the few non-magick phrases I'd learnt in Gaelic, but at that moment, I knew there was more power in those words than a spell had ever had. _Tá mé chomh mór sin i ngrá leat, tá mé chomh doirtesin duit. _It echoed around me and then slowly faded into the distance as I was pulled from sleep.

I awoke oddly alert. The door had just slammed shut. "Hunter! Killian!" I heard Bree call. Killian was still asleep on the couch opposite me. Charlie was sitting on the seat, texting on his phone.

"In here!" I called back. "Killian, wake up," I said softly. He groaned, and then opened his eyes and looked around in comic confusion. Bree came in with Robbie.

"There are watch sigils everywhere," she said, "and Alisa was there, strapped to the tombstone we used as an alter with Cal once."

"Did he take her magick?" Killian asked, having woken up properly.

"No idea," she said, "...it was horrible," her voice was a whisper. Robbie put an arm round her waist, pulling her into him comfortingly. There was a painful throb in my chest.

"There was some sort of barrier," said Robbie, "like a boundary around her, it stretched right out to the trees. We could feel it, which was really weird, but we could pass through without him noticing.

"He was there?" Asked Killian.

"Yup, and creepy as hell. Dark magick looks absolutely awful." Something of an understatement.

"How did Alisa look?" Asked Charlie, who'd snapped his phone shut when they'd come in.

Robbie looked a little hesitant to answer, "Scared," he said. Charlie leapt up.

"I have to go," he said.

I stood as well, blocking the door, "You can't. You will just be killed,"

"She's my _girlfriend,_" he said, "I can't just sit here."

"I assure you, you can," I said bitterly. He was awakening my own temptation to simply go and snatch Morgan out of there.

"Well someone's got to help her!" He exclaimed.

"We will, but we need a plan," I turned to Robbie, who was settling Bree onto the couch, her head on his lap. "Is Hadrian still there?"

"No, he left after drawing runes all over the tomb with his knife thing...that was when Alisa started screaming..."

"Oh goddess, I've got to get to her!" Yelled Charlie, pushing against me. Though he was one of few people taller than me, I had more muscle, and stood my ground. So instead, Charlie lifted his hand and said a word in Irish Gaelic. I deflected his magick easily. Killian put a hand on his shoulder from behind.

"Come on, lad," he said, suddenly ten years older, "we'll get her back quicker than you can."

"How?" Charlie asked helplessly.

"Sit, and we'll think about what we can do," said Killian calmly. Charlie hesitantly sat back down. I've gave Killian a nod of thanks. I began pacing. Back and forth from the end table to the door next to the fireplace, my hands clasped behind my back. How could we possibly get Alisa back without exposing ourselves? I would not risk losing the chance to save my Morgan. But I wouldn't leave Alisa. She was a sister of the craft, she was part of my coven, and, if I interpreted correctly, she had found her _muirn beatha dan_. I knew his pain all too well, and I could not allow what I dreaded for Morgan to happen to Alisa.

There was a soft rap on the door. I went and got it. It opened to reveal a short, stout woman with long greying hair, wearing a long, flowing blue top and loose fitting trousers. "Alyce!" I grinned, pulling her into a hug, her head barely reaching my shoulder.

"Oh Hunter," she chuckled, gripping me tight. "How are you?" She asked.

"Well," I said, in a tad of a white lie. "And you?"

"Worried sick, Mr, Niall, for the past two years!" She scolded. I lead her to the living room, where she was greeted warmly by Bree and Robbie. Killian stood and shook her hand. "Ah, Killian MacEwan, half the trouble in Scotland is caused by you, apparently," Killian laughed.

"Only half!" He exclaimed.

"Ah, and you must be Charlie Findgoll," said Alyce, looking at the weary boy who sat furthest from the fire.

"How do you know me?" He asked.

"I have associates Bell, Book and Candle. Your boss sells me sea salts for my potions, he's mentioned your achievements, takes all the credit for them," she said with a kind smile. When he gave her back a polite but weak smile, Alyce glanced at me questioningly.

"I guess we better fill you in..." I said.

And we did. For the umpteenth time today I told the story, and it made me feel as bad as all the times before, having to recount the way I left her – the way I left all of them – and my reasons for not telling anyone seemed less justified every time I told it. When it was done, Alyce sat on the couch with one hand on her heart and the other on her mouth, "Oh Morgan," she whispered, "Oh Goddess protect her."

"So back to Alisa," said Killian after a minute to let things settle.

Charlie looked more alert now that he'd heard my story – and more likely to run for the door again. "I can see only one option," I said wearily. "We try breaking the boundaries from here, without him feeling it."

"How does that work?" Asked Killian.

"I can shield us enough," I said.

"Hunter, I don't think that's possible, no offence," said Alyce, patting my wrist as I stood next to where she sat.

"Please, just trust me," I said, "I can shield you all, I wouldn't risk it otherwise." They all looked a little uncomfortable. Yeah, just put possibly your lives in the hands of a seeker, no problem.

"Hunter, no witch has any means of doing that," said Alyce.

"I can," I said pleadingly.

"He..." Charlie said hesitantly, "he did heal my stomach in about two seconds flat. That's pretty much impossible. And we have to at least _try _getting Alisa back." There was a moment's consideration.

At last, Killian sighed and said, "I guess it's the only way."

Alyce nodded solemnly, "let's do it."

There was a burst of action. Bree went to grab some earth from outside whilst Robbie found the ritual bowls she'd bought a year ago, Charlie found some chalk and Killian and I began shoving the furniture back. I thought about doing it in the pool area, but we had worked magick there before, and it might have interfered. Alyce went out to her car and came back with a small cauldron and a candle. Killian gave her a questioning glance, "do you generally keep cauldrons in your car for emergencies?"

She chuckled, "Oh no, dear, there was a delivery order for someone in New York, but I suspect they can wait a day or two."

"Ah," said Killian.

"Charlie, have you got anything of Alisa's?" I asked him. He was looking a little more alive now that we were doing something.

"Yeah," he said, and he dug into his pocket and came out with a pencil of all things, the rubber at the top had been bitten to death.

"You know," said Killian, "that's not the most romantic item I've seen, why do you even have it?"

"She was studying and I was explaining and I forgot to give the pencil back to her," said Charlie.

"Right," said Killian with a grin, "as I said, very romantic,"

I set up the circle, thinking that the last time I'd had a circle here had been with Morgan, pretty much the day after I took Alisa back. It was the last one we had before we left...except...except when Morgan and I did a private circle at my house, goddess, only the night before I left. I'd been teaching her how to channel the energy of several different stones, getting their powers to mix to make something beautiful. Of course, as per usual, we had ended up on the floor, making out. My Morgan... "Hunter!" Killian elbowed me. "This isn't the time to be reminiscing." Why did everyone notice when I was doing that? Was my face that telling?

"Right, sorry," I apologized. The blood witches – Killian, Alyce, Charlie and I – stepped into the circle. I closed it. We held hands. I was between Charlie and Alyce. I placed the pencil and the candle under the cauldron, and then I took something out of my pocket which I had been saving for two years. It was a ring, a greenish grey colour, with runes engraved on the outside and an onyx stone set into the front. I'd ripped it off his finger when we'd fought.

Now, I placed it in the cauldron, thankful that I'd been thinking ahead. I ignored the questions in their eyes.

And so the circle began. After asking the God and Goddess to be with us, we began walking deasil around the circle. Feeling the pulse of burning heat on my chest, I set up the blocks around my friends, shielding them from his sight. I began the chanting softly, remembering old words I would never forget.

'_Release this burden off the soul,_

_Burn it before the night grows old_

_Let we through who pass in peace_

_Let the wall of darkness cease'_

The others took up the chant and we walked faster around the circle, saying it louder and stronger.

'_Release this burden off the soul,_

_Burn it before the night grows old_

_Let we through who pass in peace_

_Let the wall of darkness cease!_

I could see the magick dancing in the air, white magick, pure and beautiful. We were the only ones in the world as we ran round the circle. "Picture the cemetery!" I shouted, closing my eyes.

_Let the wall of darkness cease!_

We cried, and the magick flew down into the cauldron like tornado, breaking it. We slowed, and Charlie was about to let go but I grabbed his wrist. "Something's not right," I whispered. And then, before I had a chance to breath, five tongues of fire shot out of the candle. As they made their toward us they turned solid, making long spears of frozen fire. As mine hurtled toward me, I flung out my hand. "_Ina!" _I cried.

The stakes stopped short of us all, centimetres away from our chests. They dropped to the floor, but didn't shatter. "Is everyone alright?" I asked, breathing heavily. Alyce had her hand over her mouth, staring shocked at what had almost killed her. Killian's eyes flamed like the fire's – with anger and fear. Charlie was already on the floor, examining the stakes of fire. I joined him. I held one in my hand. It was warm to the touch, as if the fire was merely encapsulated inside something, still giving its energy within dark magick, for that was what it was. I could feel it, like a prison bars around the flames, forcing them to stay as they were.

"It's like the spell backfired," said Charlie. "We ordered the flame to burn the barriers, but instead the barriers took the flame." He went on his knees to the cauldron. Alisa's pencil was still intact. "I don't think it had any effect on her," said Charlie, relieved. We broke the circle.

Though they'd been there all along, Bree and Robbie only appeared to me now. I'd been so focused on the circle. They both looked at me in shock. "Are you guys alright?" Robbie asked.

"Yes," I said, rubbing my cheek, "are you? That was some pretty big magick."

"Understatement of the year," he muttered.

We took a moment to recover before Killian, his head in his hands, asked, "So what can we do now?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "There must be another way of doing this." So I began pacing again, as Killian went into the kitchen to make some tea and Alyce collected the broken pieces of the cauldron.

"Ms. R Bucket isn't going to be very happy," she murmured. I felt her grumpiness, and I knew it was simply a way of dealing with a near death experience...or so I hoped; I didn't want to be on the wrong side of Alyce Fernbrake, she, like Bree and Morgan, was a force to be reckoned with. Charlie pocketed Alisa's pencil and collected up the ritual bowls.

"Hunter!" Exclaimed Bree. I spun around, expecting Hadrian to appear. But there was just Bree's face, lit up with excitement.

"What?" I asked, utterly confused.

"We can do it," she said, flipping her fringe back. "_We _can do it! Kithic, the non-blood witches!"

"No, it would be even more dangerous for you than it is for us, and you saw what happened,"

"No, you don't get it!" She exclaimed, jumping a little, "Robbie and I were able to get through the barriers, whereas you guys clearly weren't. With our energy we can break them."

"He only protected it against blood-witches," murmured Charlie. He looked up at me, no longer downcast, but as excited as Bree, "it would work! And they could take down the barrier long enough for us to go and remove the sigils on the tomb and release Alisa!"

It was, in fact, a brilliant plan. "But with Kithic want to do it?"

"Of course they will, Hunter," said Killian, who'd appeared at the kitchen doorway after Bree had squealed. "You know what they said today, they wanted to help,"

"It's dangerous."

"We'll be there to protect them," said Alyce, once again smiling, "Hunter, Alisa is their friend, and if they do not wish to then they certainly don't have to. But give _them _that decision."

I nodded slowly. Alyce was right. "Alright, open the witches call centre again, I guess."

In about ten minutes, all of Kithic had replied that they were coming. Bree had texted most of them, with an extremely short explanation of what we needed to do. Thankfully, most of them lived pretty close by, and just an hour after four blood witches were almost killed, nine non-blood witches were doing the same thing, with only the power of the earth, not the power of themselves. It seemed like an increasingly dicey idea.

I was greeted with hugs and an I-told-you-you-needed-us look from Jenna. I felt like an army commander as I quickly briefed them on what they had to do, "place the pencil with the candle and the ring in the cauldron" – Alyce had gone out and was sacrificing one from Practical Magick – "It's pretty similar to your other circles, except this time the power will go into the cauldron. Bree and Robbie know the chant. When you feel the magick at it's highest, think of the cemetery, the one Cal took you to, it's the one in that field," as unspecific as I was, Thalia and Simon, who hadn't been in Cirrus, knew where I was talking about. "If you feel dark magick at any time, break the circle, don't hesitate, just do it. May the goddess be with you," I said in a benediction, praying it with all my heart. I couldn't watch my friends die. I wanted to be in the circle with them, but I knew that that would stop the entire thing. I would hold the entire circle from entering the barrier.

Thalia, Simon, Matt, Jenna, Sharon, Ethan, Bree, Raven and Robbie entered their circle with quiet confidence. Bree and Robbie began chanting a little unsteadily at first, but the others joined quickly and I knew the energy was building. The need grew in me to be with them. I was worried for them. I'd always been there to do circles with them, I couldn't stop now, not in one so dangerous. _Niall, you haven't been with them for two _years_, they'll do fine _was my seeker voice actually being sympathetic? I didn't think it possible...I watched their power grow and grow, but soon it was too much. With a nod from Killian, I went outside into the light rain. Bree's front yard was simply grass and a few flowers, but it was calming. I breathed in the cool night air and tried to distract myself from the power pulsing in the house. Of course, the only two trains of thought I had were Alisa or Morgan. Morgan was so easy to get immersed in, thinking of her beauty and strength and her humour and independence, what she did to me...but then I wondered why Morgan was so submissive toward Hadrian. The Morgan I knew two years ago held her ground no matter what, she would never follow orders through, even when she knew how irritated I got and – the street in front of me swam, and images suddenly flashed before me. It was Morgan, lying on a bed, the room was dark, only lit by a small lamp. A hand, there was a hand on her naked thigh, and heaving breathing. A flash of a white face with a scar as thin lips kissed her.

As quickly as it came, it went, and I fell on the fence for support. "_No!" _I cried. Oh sweet Goddess! Tears came to my eyes, my throat constricted. No, Morgan, oh goddess no!

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_Please review! Thanks for Reading! :D_


	7. Chapter 7

Cheers for the reviews, much appreciated and needed on this chapter -- because I got utterly lost -- so thanks!

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By the time I was ready to sleep, a headache was pulsing in my head. Isaac's arm lay over my naked body, comforting me. But the headache still penetrated my skull from the inside. I groaned. "What's wrong?" asked Isaac's voice in my ear. His warm breath shot a welcome shiver up my arm.

"Headache," I murmured. I knew I'd made the right decision. I felt so much closer to him now that we'd made love. I knew him now. I was amazed that I'd done it. That another door had opened in my life. I'd thought at first that marrying Isaac was closing doors. It was opening them.

"Do you want me to make you some tea?"

"Yes please," I whispered. I felt his weight leave the bed and the door opened, letting through a crack of light. I watched as my husband's toned, quite muscular body slipped out. Somehow, his shirt had stayed on throughout the entire thing. It had been sort of rushed, but it had been beautiful, I was sure. I stretched, my hands touching the headboard. I was a woman! I regretted having postponed it one night. It was silly of me and Bree.

My headache gave me an extra hard poke and I groaned again. Was I getting flu or something? Because that would be really crappy. It wasn't long before Isaac returned with a mug of the tea. He handed it to me.

I drank hastily, feeling the headache fade with each sip. After I was finished, I put it on the bedside table. I wondered if this was my room anymore, or was it his as well? I hoped so. The man in question stood at the end of the bed. I watched as he pulled on his boxers and work trousers. "Where are you going?" I asked him, wishing he'd come back and hold me like he had.

"A late night call," he said, "something's happening with the shares and my secretary needs me to go and sort it out."

"Oh," I said, a drop of sadness in my stomach.

He came round to my side and kissed me on the lips. "Thank you, Morgan," he said close to my ear again. I instinctively knew what he was referring to...

He ran his hand down my naked side as he walked away, and I was left alone in the dark room. Blocking out the rain, I listened as he revved his car up and left. I felt sad that he had to leave me on my night of becoming a proper woman, and sad that this probably happened often – emergency share problems, late night flights, malfunctioning Barbie dolls. Still, I thought, I'm his wife; I'll take the bad with the good. I slept after that, hoping he'd be holding me when I woke.

But there came a dream, something even in unconsciousness I didn't want.

In it, I looked out on what I recognized as the highway Isaac's driveway came onto. I was sitting on the high wall that marked the boundary of his – our – estate, waiting for something, hoping for something, the mailman? A friend? Rain fell hard against my back, but it didn't deter me. It was with eager anticipation that I watched cars whizz past, begging for one of them to slow down. None of them did.

A green Honda shot past and I shouted, _"Stop! Please stop!" _but it was already gone. I sat on that wall for hours, watching every face in every car, but I couldn't find what I searched for. The excitement wore off. My anticipation was depleted. I began to weep, my tears turning into beautiful white stars as they fell from my cheeks. They floated away from me, away across the farmer's paddock on the other side of the road. _"Why? Why do you leave me?" _I cried out to them, but they did not listen, though more continued to cascade down my cheeks.

"_Morgan!" _There came a loud, desperate call from somewhere around me. He had a beautiful voice...familiar, somehow...

"Morgan!" My eyes flicked open, and I realised there were real tears on my cheeks. Isaac's blank face hovered over mine. "It was just a dream," he said gruffly. I groaned and rolled over in bed. "I have to go, it's almost nine,"

"But you've worked all night!" I exclaimed.

"It's what happens in my business, Morgan," he said, tying his tie up.

"Wait," I said, "I'll do it," I got out of bed, not bothering with the covers, and fixed his tie for him. My father had taught me how to do it. I'd finished, but I left my hands on his chest and looked up into his dark eyes. He looked back down at me.

"What were you dreaming about?" He asked me.

"I don't know, just a nightmare, I guess," I said.

"Right, goodbye, I'll see you tonight," he said, and he kissed my lips briefly and left. I stood in that room, as my conscience told me who I'd been waiting for, again and again and again.

I ignored it.

_Hunter_

"Oh goddess, Morgan," I whispered to the night, leaning heavily on the fence, "Why? How could you do that...not when you love me, Morgan...not when you loved me?" To see her with someone else...it hurt so much. A blunt pain in my chest held strong. I wondered what Morgan was thinking. Thoughts of regret? No, that would be wishful thinking. She had married him, after all. _She's given up on me, _I thought, my fist clutching a fence post, _she's forgotten me. _

I'd always rested in the thought that we were muirn beatha dans, as if that would always bind her to me, as if that title would keep her from loving any other. But now I remembered that she'd loved Cal before me, she'd loved him as much as she loved me, probably, it was only when she found out his motives...so that's what I had to do? I had to go and tell her.

I stood up, flicked the rain out of my hair and went to my car. It didn't matter that I would probably die in the first five minutes; I would go there, I would tell her, show her I was alive, show her the mistake she'd made, remind her what proper love is, take her away from Hadrian, make her safe, and we'd be together again. Simple. I was revving up the engine when there was a knock on the window. I looked up to see Killian. I hesitated. I knew he would stop me from going...but what about Alisa? In the shock I'd forgotten about her. I wound down my window. Cold rain spat into my lap.

"Where the hell are you going?" Killian asked me, water droplets dripping from his hair.

"Morgan..." I said feebly.

"What happened?" He was suddenly poised and alert.

I looked at him. I didn't want to say it; I didn't want to confirm the words by saying that aloud. But he was Morgan's brother; he probably had more of her love than I did at present. "Hadrian and Morgan..." I said quietly.

Killian's face morphed into horror. "That _bastard!_" He seethed. I raised my eyebrow. Why couldn't I just blame Hadrian like Killian was? Why couldn't it all be his fault? Killian's fist clutched the lowered window, but it slowly relaxed, and he looked at me with sharp, dark eyes. "We have to get Alisa first, Hunter," he said carefully controlling his voice. "Then we'll go and kill him."

I nodded hesitantly. "Get in."

I speeded through Widow's Vale, ignoring several red lights, relying solely on my witch senses to keep me from crashing into anyone. "The circle went well," Killian told me, trying to distract us both from our fury.

"Did the ring melt?"

"Yes," he said, "how did you get it?"

"I got it off him when we were fighting," I said, swerving round a sharp corner.

"Was it fun?"

"Intensely," I muttered, "it'll be even better now."

I took a hasty left at a roundabout, getting an angry horn from someone. My windscreen wipers had trouble keeping up with the constant rainfall. "We'll have to dismantle the runes on the tombstone," I told him.

"Are you expecting more boundaries?"

"No, the boundaries he always puts around his victims are never broken, there's no need for more than one."

"So no one's been able to destroy them until now?"

"No, Bree's idea was genius." I said. We reached the outskirts and I hit the accelerator.

The car was silent as we sped past dark fields and paddocks. My knuckles were white on the steering wheel. I would kill Hadrian, that was a given, and then I would just ask Morgan, ask her if she could possibly love me again? My chest hurt so much. This night, was it the end? The end of my love for her?

"This is it," I told Killian, ignoring such questions until after I'd killed Hadrian. I pulled out from the road, going through a gap in the fence.

"Let's make this quick," Killian muttered. We got out into the heavy rain. I didn't feel the cold. I generally kept my athame in my belt – airport security's useless at detecting glamours – and now I wielded it, quickly checking the shining blade and intricately carved hilt.

It was then we heard the first scream. It was a painful shriek, piercing and terrified, drowning in the rain and the night. Killian and I glanced at each other. It came again, louder. We locked eyes. The sudden realisation hit us that we had to focus on the task at hand, not, for the moment, on our anger at Hadrian. Alisa, that was Alisa's scream, her powers were being stolen from her. Alisa, the shy half-witch who'd never been sure on her magick, who'd had the strength to run away to Gloucester, to meet her unwelcoming family. I pictured her now, her Latino face and her timid expression. Alisa. We had to help her. We began to run.

A short trail led through a copse of trees to the cemetery. Branches snatched at my jeans and jacket, but I ignored them, pushing on. I remembered what Kennet Muir had told me about Hadrian's spell. Long since lost, only Hadrian knows it, and only he knows how to recall its power back. If we were too late, then Alisa, my friend and charge of two years ago, would lose her powers.

We reached the end of the trees. The cemetery sprawled around us. Gravestones, long since forgotten, stood slanted in the ground. Statues of soldiers and saint stood tall and frozen, locked in place. There was another scream.

"Alisa!" I shouted, running past the angel which blocked where I remembered the tomb to be. Killian followed. Passing the angel, we ran to the tomb. Alisa Soto writhed on top of it. Her short figure was clothed in mud slathered jeans and a soaked through t-shirt. Her normally quiet voice screamed loud and wiry as I put a hand on her forehead, "Alisa," I said desperately, "its okay, its okay we're here," I wasn't sure if she heard me or saw me, her hands clenched again and she let out another soul-tearing scream. "Killian, the runes!" I shouted through the rain.

"I'm on it!" He said, kneeling down at the base of the tomb. I looked at the ropes that tied Alisa to the stone. Gripping my athame, I stupidly tried to cut one. Dark magick jolted up my arm, throwing me into exquisite pain. I dropped my athame, clutching my arm.

"Bloody hell!" I spat, forcing my magick back down into my hand, battling out the dark magick. It felt distinctly like Hadrian. Like shit, to be perfectly blunt. The rain hit my back hard as I recovered as fast as I could and examined the ropes with my senses. Alisa's screams, the rain, Killian's and Hadrian's magick around mine, made it harder to focus. But I to feel it. The rope. Each fibre, encapsulated in darkness, making it indestructible to everything a human could impose upon it. Except magick.

My heritage warm against my chest, I reached for it, feeling the four elements support me. My magick reached into the rope again. I imaged air rushing through the strands, separating them from their prison bars. The earth, suffocating the darkness, and the fire, burning it burning the dark magick. "_Ligean do dhuine!" _I shouted. I felt the magick break its hold on Alisa, the ropes simultaneously snapped, releasing their captive. Alisa's deafening screams were muted a little, but I knew it wasn't over. So long as the runes on the tombstone associated her with Hadrian's power bank, they would continue to steal her power. My jacket was drenched and heavy as I lifted her off the stone. She moaned deliriously, her head hanging back as I held her.

Killian was kneeling at the base of the stones, swiftly stabbing his own plain athame into the rock like butter, protected by his magick. With my senses, I felt them glow. "Killian, take Alisa to the car, the power will have further to go from here to there, I'll do the runes."

"No," he said over the clatter of rain, still working on the runes, "you go, I'll finish." I hesitated, then nodded, and, getting a securer hold on Alisa, started off at a run back through the graveyard. Alisa was light, she gripped my back as carried her, tearing at my jacket as waves of the spell stole her magick from her. I realised just what she was going through. I had seen many witches' faces as I'd taken their powers from them, but I had been transporting them to the gentle Mother Goddess. Hadrian was ripping her powers from her. Like ripping off a limb.

"Hold on, Alisa," I whispered, "this pain will stop, you'll be--" something in the air suddenly changed. I stopped just behind the stone angel we'd run past. I placed Alisa on the ground behind it, the tomb the angel stood on hiding her from view. The sound of the rain had dimmed; the moon had gone behind the clouds...someone else was here.

I was down on my knees with a hand over her mouth before Alisa could scream. There, ten paces from the tombstone, Hadrian stood pale faced, glaringly, arms by his sides. Looking out between the angel's wing and body, I saw he wore much the same clothes I'd last properly seen him in; black dress pants, white shirt, black suit jacket. I was transfixed. This was the man, the man who'd stolen me away from Morgan, who'd almost killed my father, who'd almost killed _me_. He was the one man in the world I wouldn't hesitate in killing. But then I remembered.

_Killian! _I cried into his mind. He stood face to face with Hadrian in front of the tomb, a few feet between them. He didn't look scared, just pensive.

_Don't do anything, Hunter, stay with Alisa, _his voice in my mind was calm and solemn. So far, Hadrian hadn't sensed me, but I wondered how long it would take before he did.

_Killian, he'll kill you, _I pleaded with him, _run, run and I'll stall him._

_No, I have something to say to him. _I realised why he'd wanted me to take Alisa away. He'd known Hadrian was here. Whilst I'd been stopping myself from casting my senses, Killian had sensed Hadrian.

_Don't do this, Killian. _I told him. He didn't reply.

"MacEwan," said Hadrian, his voice calm and strong. My chest clenched at that voice. I wanted to stand, but more than that I wanted Killian to run. "Since when have you been a protector of the virtuous?"

Killian folded his arms. "Since when did you start marrying your victims?" He asked back.

"Morgan's different," Hadrian said.

"Yes," agreed Killian, and I could see from here the flame in his eyes, "she's my sister." His voice was tense. He stepped forward, fists clenched. Hadrian's hand suddenly shot out.

"_Pian a bheith ort, bheith i bpian!" _He cried. Killian fell mid step to the ground with a yelp of pain. He rolled, clutching his chest, and coughed, blood spurting out of his mouth. Hadrian flicked his wrist again and Killian's entire body lifted and then fell back to the ground. He coughed up blood again, shaking. Hadrian slowly lowered his hand, still the same distance away, and said darkly, "don't look so brave, lad, you know about me, use your wits,"

Killian, trembling, stood up gradually, until he was at his full height again. "Not to blow one's own trumpet, hmm?" Killian murmured, wiping his blood off his mouth. This, I noted with nervous enjoyment, infuriated Hadrian. His face turned in a scowl.

"You're a very interesting specimen of a MacEwan. Your father's dissimilar from you; he was always out to get something, always doing business, even when he knew I wanted to take his powers."

"But you didn't," said Killian, "They were stripped by the very woman you married,"

"Yes, well as you can probably guess, not much of that resilience is left on her," I swallowed tensely, my hand on Alisa's mouth tightening. "She's very...agreeable now."

"What, when you raped her?" Asked Killian promptly. Hadrian raised his eyebrow in surprise, but it quickly passed.

"Actually, she offered," he said. My breathing seized. The blunt pain suddenly became sharp, piercing me, reminding me.

"You fucking bastard!" A purple ball of magick flew from Killian's hand at Hadrian's head. Hadrian reflected it right back at him. It hit Killian square in the chest. With an 'oof' he was thrown back. He quickly recovered, standing up straight and tall, "don't you do _anything_ to my sister!" He yelled, and threw another ball at him. Hadrian pursed his lips, this time flicking it over his shoulder. Killian, undeterred, breathed deeply in anger and launched himself at Hadrian, fists ready to box him in. Hadrian held up his hand, and Killian stopped in mid-step. I could see the little stream of dark magick coming from Hadrian's palm to Killian's chest. It pushed against him, forcing Killian back as if he were simply air. Killian snarled in pain.

"You'll never be as strong as me, lad, remember that," Hadrian told him darkly.

"Yeah?" said Killian hoarsely, the magick infecting his chest, "well at least my magick is my own. You're like a witch on steroids," he croaked with a grave smirk, "and we all know what the side effects are," I was so full of nervous energy that I almost laughed. But quickly uneasy amusement turned to anxiety. Hadrian once again threw Killian back with his magick, smacking his head against the tombstone. Hadrian was right in front of him in a blink.

"Tell me where the girl is, MacEwan," Killian looked delirious.

_Killian! Get up, you have to move! _I tried yelling at him.

_I can't, _was the vague response.

"No," he murmured aloud, "what do you want from her?"

Hadrian smirked gravely, looking more dangerous than ever, "someone. Will you tell me now?"

"No,"

"So be it," Hadrian's hand shot out. I watched in horror as thick, great black magick drove its way into Killian's chest. It spread out into his body. I saw it through my witch senses, stiffening. From here the pain was dreadful, from there...Killian shrieked, his face morphed and stretched as he writhed. "Tell me!" Demanded Hadrian. I don't know why Killian didn't. Maybe the pain, but something told me it was his honour. The magick channelled into Killian like an army raiding a fortress. He shrieked chillingly. "Tell me now, MacEwan!" But Killian didn't. I felt his consciousness fading. So did Hadrian. He broke off his magick, and Killian slumped against the tombstone, out cold...for how long? I wanted to go to him, I needed to make sure he was okay, but Hadrian was there. He kicked Killian's body off the side of the tomb and knelt down to examine his runes. As he touched the first of the broken carvings, Alisa suddenly stiffened in my lap.

"Alisa," I whispered as softly as I could, stroking her forehead. Her eyes were full of frantic fear. Hadrian ran his hand along the runes, checking them. My breathing was stumped. If he found one rune still alive, he could take all her power from it. She had been tied there long enough to charge every rune, and they were all connected. I watched his face carefully. His mouth was in a sneer of anger, and I felt hopeful, but I remembered Morgan's words: _things can always get worse. _Suddenly, Hadrian stood up. He swiftly went round the tombstone, stepping on Killian's chest to get there. He knelt at the end closest to us.

"Yes!" Exclaimed Hadrian – in the true manner of a madman – into the quiet patter of rain. He placed his hand on the rune which must have been there. _"Is Liomsa sin!" _

Alisa gasped, her face suddenly going pale. I watched in horror as white and orange magick seeped out of the unbroken rune into Hadrian's body. Alisa writhed again in my lap. I held her tightly, trying to comfort her. It didn't work; she was as delirious as before. Alisa's magick flowed willingly into Hadrian's body like a gentle stream. I couldn't let this happen, but I couldn't lose my chance at saving Morgan. If he saw me he'd take Morgan away. If he saw me, I would save Alisa's power. Time made the choice for me. Like getting sucked into a vacuum, the last of Alisa's power went into Hadrian, and something was shut off. "No more shall she wake a witch," announced Hadrian to his one companion – darkness. Alisa suddenly slackened on my lap.

"Alisa," I whispered desperately, brushing her hair back, but the ordeal had been too much for her. It happened a lot when witches lost their magick.

The girl I now held in my arms was now a normal human. Her light had gone out.

Hadrian let out a deep breath and stretched, flexing his fingers. I watched him darkly. After he'd secured his high, he regarded Killian -- who had lain too still on the ground for the entire nightmare -- with a ponderous expression, then snapped round and left. I watched him go. "You will be brought to justice, Hadrian," I whispered to his disappearing form, "by both the Goddess and me."

I listened to the quiet for a moment, the gentle patter of rain, the rustle of the wind, and ensured that the bastard had left. Then I looked down at Alisa. With my mage sight I saw again that she was scratched and muddy. In her unconsciousness she was still shivering. I dared not wake her. It was best if she rested before coming to terms with what had happened. Leaving her lying on the wet grass, I went out from behind the stone angel. My legs were stiff from crouching, but it felt so good to be able to move again. The hold Hadrian had over me was too powerful. It had to end. But I knew it was not tonight. I knelt down next to Killian and shook him lightly on the shoulder.

"Killian," I said quietly. I prayed that he was alive. "Killian?" His eyelids flickered a second, and I shook him a little harder, "come on, wake up," he blinked and looked at his surrounding for a moment, figuring out where he was. He succeeded, and looked at me.

"Did he get her powers?" He asked weakly.

I nodded grimly, "are you alright?"

"Yeah," he said. He got getting up shakily, leaning on the bloodied tombstone for support. I stood up with him, "my chest hurts a little, though."

"Do you want me to heal you?"

"Actually, I think I've had enough magick for one night," he said with a short smile, "is Alisa alright? Aside from the obvious?"

"Let's just get her home," I said.

I carried her in my arms as we walked back through the spitting rain. Killian tripped beside me. "Are you sure you're alright? He pretty much tortured you twice."

"Yes," he told me tiredly, and I didn't push it further. We reached the car. I sat Alisa in the back seat and buckled her seatbelt, then got in. It was silent for the first ten minutes back to Widow's Vale. Killian gazed out of the window at the night sky. I kept my eyes on the road, driving at a reasonable speed this time. My body clock said half-past midnight, though the sky showed no sign of a new day. I felt sick with pain at the thought that we had achieved nothing, we had helped no one, and Killian had almost gotten killed in the process. But we knew one tiny piece of information: he wanted someone. I didn't know who, though my seeker self was already making a list: Selene, me, Da, the head of the council, Eofie. Morgan had associated with powerful witches in the past, the best in their areas of magick. They were powerful, obviously, but in comparison...

It was a long drive home, and I was tired. Alisa slept soundly in the back of the car. I knew she wouldn't sleep like that again for a long time. Dreams, I heard, haunted witches who'd been stripped. Every time they closed their eyes memories would come to them, memories which drove a stake of despair and loss deep into their chests. A man I'd stripped had described it to me, trying to make me guilty. He succeeded, maybe, but I understood my job well enough. He'd been using dark magick to murder Woodbanes near Aberdeen. His ugly, sagging face flashed in my mind. Hadrian looked nothing like him, no where near as noticeable, yet he was that much worse. Stripping fifty witches of their magick is like murdering fifty, accept they won't move on – they will keep living in despair to a ripe old age. Although, I added in an afterthought, so many took their own lives out of the pain of it. I realised I needed to have a serious talk with Charlie and Alisa's father. I glanced in my mirror at the girl sleeping in the back seat. I wouldn't let her life end, physically or mentally. There are ways to connect with magick without having it within you. Magick is everywhere.

When we finally got to Bree's gate it was around one-thirty. I carried the still sleeping Alisa in my arms; Killian stood next to me, yawning. "Ever since you came, Niall, I have had a serious lack of sleep." He murmured.

Then I started yawning as I pressed the doorbell – it was like pushing the titanic with my pinky finger, I was so tired. "Quit yawning, MacEwan, it's contagious." I heard running footsteps in the hall, and the door opened to reveal a relieved Bree.

"What the hell took you so long?" Bree demanded.

"Ugh!" Exclaimed Killian, rubbing his face wearily, "let us in or I might just crash here on your doorstep." Bree looked him up and down.

"Why are you so pale?"

"'cause I'm tired!" He grumbled.

"Alisa!" Charlie came running down the hall. As if she sensed he was close, Alisa began to stir in my arms. Her coffee eyes flickered open drowsily. I set her down on her feet, and she was immediately enveloped by Charlie. With one second more of confusion, she gripped his back and burst into tears. Bree at last admitted us into the warm. I went into the living room. There sat Raven, Robbie and a blonde haired witch who I was so happy to see I even forgot I was dead on my feet.

"Sky!" I exclaimed as we hugged.

"Why hello, deserter!" She laughed, patting me condemningly on the back.

"How was your flight?" I asked, examining my cousin's face.

"Ugh, tiring as ever," she said submissively, "you know the council is pretty angry about your little run away?"

"Of course they are, they get angry about everything,"

"You're not going to tell them?"

"Nope," I said, popping the 'p'.

Athar grinned, "Finally, you're rebelling again,"

"Well, I must say chasing down Ana Heathcote's spelled chickens is not the most stimul—"

"Hunter!" Bree called from the hallway. We went out. Bree was fine, but Killian lay face up on the plush carpet, out cold, about two metres from the door.

"I didn't think he was serious about the whole collapsing thing..." murmured Bree, "he must be really tired."

"No," I said, kneeling down next to him.

"Dark magick," muttered Sky, joining me. I studied him, extending my senses, then I hurriedly unzipping his jacket and unbuttoned the top of his shirt. There, in the centre of his chest was a faded black spot, no bigger than a pound, but it was like a spider, with black tentacles sprawling over his chest. "Goddess..." breathed Sky.

I looked up at Bree, "call Alyce..." I told her gravely, "you'll never guess who we met at the graveyard."


	8. Chapter 8

Alright, I shan't make excuses. I am terribly sorry I haven't posted since the big bang (yeah, I was there), not much has been going on, I've just been...yeah, lazy, that's the only way to say it, sadly.

Thanks very much to Marble143 and Freefromsight. You guys gave me the veritable kick in the bottom and the necessary head enlargement to keep going! I really appreciate it, though I'm sorry it took me another few million years to actually write this, but it's here! I haven't quite worked out how to change Chapter One (Freefromsight has thankfully pointed out the Catholic Priests cannot, in fact, have wives), but I was thinking of rewriting it anyway so I'll do that. Not sure if anyone gets alerts, but if you get an alert about a new chapter one, ignore it if it pleaseth you, I'm not adding any extra information, just airbrushing it a bit, like Sarah Jessica Parker...blimey, she looks very strange on all the posters now.

Anywho, here is the eighth chapter, do hope you enjoy it, as I was up until 1:23am writing it (surely that must be fate? 1 2 3...it must mean something? I'll go ask Alyce).

Please review, it make my heart soar up above the prison of the writer's block. I don't care what you say, so long as you say something (does that sound profound?). You love it, you hate it, you have to tell me what the rules are for capitals after dialogue (because I still don't know), or you simply want to hurl abuse at me, review. I'll try TRY to post another chapter tonight.

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"I can't do anything, Hunter," Alyce said to me, sweeping her long grey hair over her shoulder. We stood at Killian's bedside. He'd woken up maybe an hour ago, and now he was murmuring unintelligible things, and sweat was beginning to surface on his brow. "This is dark magick I've never been taught of." Her grey-blue eyes scanned Killian's plagued chest.

"There must be something?" I asked helplessly.

"No, there's nothing," she said, taking a wet flannel and mopping his head.

"Would it be worth getting a doctor?" Asked Bree from the other side of the bed.

I shook my head, "they could only make it worse."

"Some normal medicines can take quite a nasty turn with dark magick in someone's body," Alyce explained. Bree sighed in frustration, pushing her side fringe up.

"We have to do something," she said. We'd been saying that a lot lately, but all it had done was make matters worse. The graveyard had seen two of my friends into something close to hell. Alisa was with Charlie now in one of Bree's other spare rooms, crying, mourning, still falling from the high mountain witches are set on in comparison to normal people. I took in a painful breath and turned back to the feverish Killian.

"I can ring my Da," I said.

"I already did," said Sky, coming into the room with a tray of tea. My chest had loosened a little, knowing that she was here, but not enough to allow me to deal. "I told him the symptoms," she said, flicking her long blond hair over her shoulder and placing the tea on the chest of drawers. "He said he'd look through a few of his books, but he didn't think he'd find anything. He's never heard of it before."

"No one has," I muttered, shoving my fingers through my short hair.

"Do you know any other healers around here or New York?" Bree asked Alyce.

She shook her head once more, "none up to the job..." I noticed her hesitation. She quickly glanced at me.

"What?" I asked.

"Morgan's the only one who can heal this sort of dark magick," she said.

"Morgan?" Sky repeated in surprise.

Alyce sat down on the chair by Killian's bed, "I know, we think we need an extremely knowledgeable witch, the best in Alchemy and Healing, but I saw it in the _meanma brach. _Woodbane witches will always have some of that darkness in them, or at least an inbuilt understanding of darkness. Morgan's powerful enough to use it," Alyce's eyes scanned Killian's chest, then she looked up to us, "she can heal him."

The clock ticked. Skye looked at me with her usual concerned look in her eyes. Concern for me, and consequently concern for Morgan. "It would put her at risk," she said, "If Hadrian sensed that she'd been using her powers...he could break, and just take them."

"We can't let that happen..." said Alyce.

"And we can't let her brother die," Bree pointed out. More silence followed, the sort where your head just goes round in little circles, until eventually all words lose their meaning and you just get lost.

"I won't risk Morgan," I said quietly.

"But she would risk herself for Killian," said Bree, frowning at a spot on the floor.

"She'll risk herself for anyone she loves," Alyce said.

"But that's not always the right idea," I said.

"But the point is that she would want us to tell her," Bree said. Ah, the circle just may have been broken.

"And how do we explain why Killian's been blasted with some of the darkest magick in the world?" Skye pointed out with her usual bluntness. This took another moment to think through.

"Killian's always getting himself into trouble," said Bree, "Morgan won't know how dark it is or anything. She can choose for herself." Everyone exchanged glances. Bree was right. Morgan should choose for herself. But I knew what the answer would be. I knew I wouldn't like it. I am not an honourable person. I would choose my Morgan over Killian. And I would choose Morgan's life over my own.

We filed back into the lounge. Bree's house was feeling more and more like home. "Just don't mention anything about why Killian got hurt." I warned her again.

"I know, Hunter," she sighed, "I know." Of course it was Bree who was calling. It would be far too strange if Alyce or Skye called. And if I called? Aside from the fact that it would compromise her life, I wondered what would happen. What she would think? Would she be angry? Happy? Confused? Disbelieving? I imagined it in my head.

"_Hello?"_

"_Morgan," I say urgently, not wasting any time._

"_Hunter?" Her gasp is so beautiful. She sounds surprised...of course she is!_

"_Yes, Morgan," I say, grinning down the phone line._

"_Goddess, Hunter!" She exclaims, then starts talking very fast, "oh sweet Goddess, Hunter, I love you so much, where have you been? Why did you leave? Are you okay?"_

"_I love you t..." _ My imagination faded out. I clenched my fists. How could I think those words when I was nowhere close to being able to speak them in real life? How could I imagine such things when Morgan was thinking nothing of the sort? When she was in such danger?

Whilst I'd been in my selfish fantasy, Bree had already dialled and held the phone to her ear. I guess she figured I would break if I heard Morgan's voice. I probably would. "Morgan, how are you?" She asked first, a hint of desperation in her voice, "...okay, that's good...Morgan, something's happened to Killian," she said it tentatively. Skye, Alyce and I exchanged worried glances. "Well, he's been hit by dark magick..." my breath bated, "he just got into some trouble with some of your fathers old friends...because you're the only one who can help him...you can use your magick," Bree's brow lined in a frown, "Morgan, we think he's dying!"

As Morgan probably replied, I watched Bree's face curve into anger, "He's your freaking brother!" She yelled, "he's freaking dying and you won't do anything?...A fucking hospital is not going to help!...bullshit! He's your brother! You have the power to help him and you're not going to?...it's not you're fucking fault but it's your responsibility! God what the hell has happened to you?" Skye stood up and took Bree's free hand.

"Calm down," she told Bree quietly, "this won't get us anywhere." Bree furiously snapped her hand out of Skye's grip, but she seemed to keep herself under control a little better.

"...Morgan he's your brother, he's your family," now she pleaded, "I know, I know you haven't known him for so long, but he's family regardless...he cares for you, Morgan. Remember at the reception? Remember—Morgan!" The fire ignited again "You cannot ignore this stuff! You can't ignore who you are! You—" Bree waited a moment then slammed down the phone. She looked us all, her face flushed with anger. "I don't believe her. I don't know who the hell she is anymore."

"I take it she's not coming?" Asked Skye.

"No," she said, plonking herself down on a seat, "she thinks we should take him to a hospital." I frowned. Bree was right, who had Morgan turned into? I shook my head. No, no it was Hadrian. He was shrouding her with his 'noble' 'Catholic' requests. With his charm, with his...with his proximity to her. When I was with her I knew I changed her. Of course I did, I taught her things. She let me into her mind. And now she's let Hadrian in...and that hurt, so much.

"Well we can't do that, can we?" Muttered Alyce, "Oh Morgan, dear, what have you gotten yourself into?" she shook her head and sighed, "I'll go and check on Killian," she said, and stood and walked tiredly out to the stairs.

Skye sat back down. "We could do a circle, at least," she said, "we could try giving him more time, or a potion, maybe."

I nodded, "if we could bind the dark magick, it might stop the spreading."

"Do you have any spell books, Bree?" Asked Skye.

"Yeah, a few. Bethany lent me a pretty high level one the other day; it should be on the table next to the kitchen."

"Right," she said, and went off to grab it, that determination in her eye to at least do _something. _

I looked to Bree. She was staring pointedly at the carpet, almost burning a hole in it. "Are you alright, Bree?" I asked her.

"No," she said, still looking fixedly at the floor.

"I know, it's—"

"Morgan said something," she cut me off, "I couldn't quite make it out, I was kind of screaming over top of her, but...she said something like 'she doesn't want to be that person anymore,'" Bree frowned in worry, "and then she said something like 'I won't be,'" Her head suddenly snapped up to look straight at me. "I think she's going to do something stupid."

Morgan

After breakfast, I discovered yet another room just beyond the lounge I'd dozed off in yesterday. It was a pool room, complete with a little changing room and a spa. The massive pool dominated the room. I knelt down and ran my hand through the water. It was warm. It was too tempting to resist.

Seeing as I was alone, I decided to do something a little different. I pulled off my t-shirt and bra and jeans and knickers and just jumped in. God, it felt wonderful. It was true, I did feel a little funny after last night's...fun, swimming relaxed me a bit. Really, I just wanted for him to come home. I would need to start doing stuff soon, after I made all the discoveries about this massive house. Maybe get a job?

I swam up and down, feeling free in the warm water, my hair trailing behind me. I glided along the bottom of the pool floor, letting my fingers trail across the smooth blue tiles. This was how to live. It felt so perfect. I swirled almost gracefully and then reached the end. I went up for air. But as I broke the surface, I heard the irritating ring of the phone. Honestly, was there one in every room? I debated whether or not to answer, but it could have been for Isaac, so I mournfully dragged myself out of the pool and grabbed a towel from a stack by the changing room. I found the phone, still ringing, on a little table in the corner. "Hello?" I spoke, pushing my hair back out of my face.

"Morgan!" Bree's voice came through rather loud, "How are you?"

"Fine," I said. Actually, I was a lot better than fine at present, or at least I was until Isaac left and I'd gotten pulled from my swim.

"Okay, that's good," she said, kind of hesitantly.

"So what's up?" I asked, sitting down on a deckchair and trying to wring the water out of my hair

"Morgan, something's happened to Killian."

I frowned, "what do you mean?"

"Well, he's been hit by dark magick." My frown deepened, and I stopped fiddling.

"How?" I asked.

"He just got into some trouble with some of your father's old friends," I shivered. Ciaran. My 'father'. But then I realized he was no longer a threat. His powers had been taken – no, I couldn't think of that, not of powers, not anymore.

"So why are you calling me?" I asked Bree, shutting the door on my previous thoughts.

"Because you're the only one who can help him," she said. I realized she sounded surprised.

"What can I do to help him?" I asked her.

"You can use your magick," said Bree.

"What?" I exclaimed, "no!"

"Why not?" she asked me, incredulously, I think. Because I'd renounced magick! Because I was now a Catholic! Because I wanted a new life! I didn't want any more tears over things which I didn't need to get myself into!

"Because I've renounced my magick!"

"Morgan, we think he's dying!" Bree exclaimed down the phone.

"Well I can't do anything," I said stonily, though somewhere inside me I could feel something say that that answer wasn't good enough.

"He's your freaking brother!" She yelled at me, "he's freaking dying and you won't do anything?"

"Take him to a hospital! That's what normal people do!"

"A fucking hospital is not going to help!"

"Well neither am I! I can't help him!"

"Bullshit!" Bree bellowed, "He's your brother! You have the power to help him and you're not going to?"

"It's not my fault I have magick, Bree!"

"It's not your fucking fault but it's your responsibility! God what the hell has happened to you?" I felt a shiver. It hurt to hear her say those words. I didn't believe them, but they hurt all the same, because my best friend was losing faith in me. I realized that in the new life I was forming for myself, I did want Bree. We'd been friends too long to just dispel her like that...but, given the situation at hand, I would have to get it across to her that I didn't use magick, that I hated it...

"Morgan," Bree's voice came back on quieter than before, "he's you brother, he's your family."

"Bree, I hardly know him, really. He just sort of waltzed on in and added to the crap going on in my life back then."

"I know, I know you haven't known him for so long, but he's family regardless,"

"Well I was always saving his arse, never the other way round," I said.

"He cares for you, Morgan. Remember at the reception? Remember—"

"I don't want to fucking remember!" I yelled, "That is well in the past! Don't you dare bring it up again!"

"Morgan!"

"I don't fucking care about my powers! I want rid of them, Bree! I don't want to be that person anymore!"

"You can't ignore this stuff! You can't ignore who you are! You—"

"I won't be that person, Bree. Don't go asking for her again." I hung up, dropped the phone on the warm stone floor. The pool no longer looked so great. I went back round to my clothes and yanked them on. Why didn't she understand what I was trying to do? Why couldn't she get the fact that I would not use my powers, that I didn't want them anymore...I didn't want my powers anymore. I thought over those words. I didn't want them. Suddenly I knew what I was going to do.

It was twelve now. I would have to wait for dark, otherwise it wouldn't work. That gave me plenty of time. I left the steamy pool room and went out into the lounge. The rain splattered outside. It was getting heavier.

I grabbed four bowls from the kitchen. After some digging around I found an ordinary candle and some matches. I wouldn't light it with my powers. That Morgan was long gone. Incense would be harder to come by, and I knew I would need it. I decided I could probably use some of the plants from outside. I shivered just looking at the freezing cold outside, but went to the French doors and slipped out into the rain. The rose bushes were waving violently.

I hurried to them and snapped off a few flowers, nicking the pad of my finger on a thorn in the process. "Shit," I muttered, and sucked on it to stem the bleeding. The rusty taste soon dissipated and I ran back inside, already soaking wet. I put the petals and candle in the top bowl and sat down in the warm lounge with a notebook and pen. Spell craft...spell craft...I sat there staring blankly at the paper. Then something clicked and I began to write.

It pained me to even think of casting a spell. I hated the idea that I would have to perform it to get rid of it. I felt like I was betraying Isaac, but I knew that he would thank me if he understood. So I wrote and finished it, using less than scholarly English, but I tried to make a good job of it. And when I read it afterward, I realized that it was good, too good. My rune sequence was perfect. I hadn't drawn them, I'd just written their names with shaky writing, but I knew they were perfect...and I knew who'd taught me to sequence them so well. I threw up all my mental barriers and tried to think of something menial, like food.

It was eight by the time I'd finished. The sky was darkening fast. I stood and picked up the bowls. I would have to go outside, and not just into the garden, but into the woods. I needed power to lose it, that much I knew. The phone began to ring. I rolled my eyes and picked up. It better not be Bree. "Hello?"

"Morgan," it was Isaac.

"Hey," I said, relieved.

"Are you alright?" He asked blankly, "you sound tense."

"I'm fine," I said, biting my lip. I had always been a crap actress. "What time will you be home?" I asked. Well, that was a veritable question. I needed to know.

"Late, the problem with the shares is still going on," he said, "what are you up to now?"

"Oh, I'm just gonna go do some stuff..." I floundered for something to say, "Oh, I found the swimming pool. It's massive."

He chuckled lightly, "indeed, it is. I'll swim with you if you're still up when I get home." I smiled...possibilities, possibilities.

"Right. Bye."

"Bye." He hung up. I pushed my hair away from my face and put the phone down. Good. I had time to do this before he came back. Once again I picked up the bowls and headed for the French doors. I'd seen a back gate leading out from the garden. Rain drops splattered on my t-shirt. I'd almost thought about going to Bree's house to get my robes and tools, but of course she would have seen me and all hell would have broken loose. I pushed through some stubborn branches to get to the unused gate. I flicked the latch over and it creaked open onto a yellowish field. I was surprised it looked so dry, what with all the rain over the past few days. Oh well, it was muddy enough. I was barefoot, so it was absolutely freezing.

The wind battled against me all the way across the field. I was surprised the forest didn't shelter me. I eventually reached the tree line. It was calmer in here, but the wind still whistled through, like the trains in the subway. I searched around for a suitable spot. It wouldn't need to be big. It was just for me. My last circle.

I finally found a clearing. A circular patch of barely dry dirt, which would be mud before the night was out. Thunder cracked far up ahead, rain pounded my back. I set to work, drawing a circle in the mud with a stick. I placed the four bowls at the four points of the compass, wishing I didn't have the inbuilt sense of North. I dug out earth from the ground with my hands. I collected the rain.

But then I came to the candle. I sat, kneeling in the mud, staring at its long shape, its small black wick. It was already wet. Flame. I felt my chest burning. The need to light the dark wick. Just the flame. My magick smouldered. I could feel it. A fire alight inside me, wanting to come out. Wanting to shed light on the dark and violent surroundings of the night. I felt my hand rise up, my fingers shaking over the candle. _Fire. Fire. Flame. Heat. Warmth. Fire._ "No!" I shouted, pulling my hand away. I furiously grabbed the matches and lit both the rose petals and the candle unhesitatingly. I stood and walked into the circle and shut it off behind me. This was it now.

'Goddess!'I shouted to the violent sky, 'hear me now! Hear me now for the last time' the trees thrashed all around me. The wind roared. I took a deep breath and walked widdershins around my circle, calling to the sky.

'_I, who you have on this burden set,_

_Do solemnly wish to forget,_

_Forget the worry, forget the strife,_

_Cut it, dispel it from my life!' _

Leaves flew all around me; trees were stripped bare of them. Lightning lit the scene in black and white. I was scared, I kept going.

'_I, who you have on this burden set,_

_Do solemnly wish to forget,_

_Forget the worry, forget the strife,_

_Cut it, dispel it from my life!' _

My hair billowed behind me, my legs pushed through the wind no matter what direction I walked in.

'_Forget the worry!' _I shouted, remembering Ciaran, remembering Selene, _'Forget the strife!' _I shouted louder, Cal's dead body in front of my face. _'Cut it!' _Thunder groaned overhead, _'Dispel it from my life!' _My life, free, with Isaac.

A smaller tree snapped right in front of me. I screamed, but kept going. I threw my hands in the air and drew Tyr, the simple shape of a pointing arrow, and then Ur, for strength. I kept drawing, the wind pushing my arms down. "Leave me!" I shouted.

'_I wish to see no more of you now!' _

'_Goddess great, I do disavow!' _I cried. The rain pounded on me, my arms froze as I drew the last rune. This was it.

'_And so the weavings of time unstitch,' _I said in a choke, falling to my knees. Lightning cracked over everything

'_No more shall I wake a—' _Green light flew out from the trees on my right. It shot through my circle, destroying it. This was it. The end of my power. I reached out and touched the light. Hunter's face swam in front of me. My eyes filled with tears. Suddenly another shot of power came from my left. I couldn't see it. It was black, black light. I fell back, sprawling into the dirt. My chest clasped, I couldn't breathe. No, this was too painful! This was too painful! No I take back what I said! The green light and the black toiled around me, suffocated me. Lightning flashed over the scene. I screamed.

Everything...

Everything...

Went black.

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Thanks for reading! Review! Or else...(cue ominous music).


	9. Chapter 9

Well, here you go, the second chapter in less than a month! I'm terribly proud! Although, the second half's a _little _dicey, seeing as I am _very_ tired, I hope you enjoy it. It's almost midnight in my part of the world. There's dedication for you!

Thanks for the reviews, I almost certainly wouldn't have written this without them. Ohhellno (I love the name, really), thank you very much for your cheerful threat - t'was most inspiring. And Jelly Babes 101, I think you've dragged me out of writer's depression (not real depression, I'm far too eccentric) several times now, which I am awfully thankful for. And to Elly-Evee, who's review welcomed me home and gave me a very good excuse to prolong any menial things I was meant to be doing and start writing! So thank you very much!

Go forth! Read!

* * *

I felt a stale light on my cheek. I could smell a fire. I could hear it crackling maybe a few metres away. I was wrapped in something...a blanket. I tried to remember where I was...home? Hunter's place? Where was he? I opened my eyes. I was lying on a sofa, a blanket around me, a pillow under my head. The fire was, thankfully, in a fireplace, burning quickly. From my position, all I could see was someone's crossed legs...a man's, I was quite sure, dressed in expensive looking dress pants. Hunter? No, no, that wasn't Hunter. God, if I saw Hunter in dress pants and a tux I'd probably faint with desire. But who was it? With irritating difficulty, I raised my head just enough to see the rest of the person. Everything came rushing back, and not just from the past few hours. I had been sat back more than a year.

I shook my head. It felt heavy, groggy.

"Morgan?" Isaac's voice broke through the cloud.

"God," I murmured, holding a shaking hand to my head. I groaned, "What the hell was I doing?"

"Practicing witchcraft," said Isaac blankly. I glanced at him. Something was nudging at the back of my mind...something... "Why, Morgan?"

It suddenly clicked, _"Do _not_, practice any witchcraft whatsoever, Morgan Rowlands, or I will kill you." _I gasped, suddenly sitting up straight. "Please," I said, "I was trying to get rid of them, that's why I cast the circle."

"You did what?" He yelled suddenly standing up. I sunk back into the sofa, my chest heaving. His face bore down on me, white with anger. _'Or I will kill you.'_

"I just had to get rid of them! My friend's been badgering me about using them...I just had to," I felt like a young child making excuses. I was so dumb, so stupid.

"You had to, did you?" He said so quietly. I would rather he shouted. He took a step towards me. His dark eyes delved into my own, "you didn't bother to tell me?"

"I didn't want to..." _make you angry_, which I clearly had.

"Have I not told you before not to practise witchcraft?" He asked me tensely.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. He leaned down, his face inches away from mine.

"And what did I threaten, Morgan?" His breath swam across my face. Tears sprung to my eyes.

"Please...I'm—" there came a loud knock from the front door. Isaac looked into my eyes, cold and hard.

"We'll continue this in a moment, Morgan."

He stood back up and went out of the room.

I lay back down, tears now spilling out onto my cheeks. Why had I not remembered? Why had I not thought? Dear God, I'd just done it, just done it because I was not strong enough to ignore Bree's requests. I should have told Isaac, he would've sorted it all out.

"Morgan?" A girl's voice asked from the doorway. I sat back up. I knew that voice!

"Oh my God, Mary K.!" I slid off the couch and ran to give my sister a hug, ignoring aches and pains everywhere. I threw my arms round her. "What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I kinda ran away," she said, her voice muffled in my shoulder.

"You what?" I asked, pulling back, "you can't just run away from school, MK!"

"Well, I did. You would've," she pointed out. I smiled, yeah I probably would have.

_Then why do you not run now, Morgan Rowlands?_

Mary K looked me up and down. "You look awful, you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said dismissively, Isaac's words already behind me; I loved him too much for that, "just a bit sick. How are you? I haven't spoken to you for ages." It was true, I hadn't seen her since Isaac proposed to me, which was a while ago now. She looked a bit paler, and I could see she'd lost some weight. She was wearing a dark grey pinafore with a white shirt and grey tights. It looked awful.

"Alright, I guess...well, bad enough to escape from St. Anne's,"

"What's wrong with it?" I asked dumbly. If I'd thought about it for a second I could've come up with a whole list of reasons why a Catholic boarding school would be absolute hell.

"Ugh! Everything! Church every morning, sassy girls who hit on the only two male teachers in the school, who are both _well _into their forties, homework, two hours of prep..." she hesitated and looked up at me, "but I guess my problems aren't as bad as yours."

I frowned, and decided that, not counting last night, she was wrong, "no, MK, it's been alright. I'm well looked after here, there's certainly plenty to do."

But she frowned back at me, "but at least I'm going to school."

I sighed, "Yeah, Bree was kinda onto me about that when she visited...I don't really care, you know? With all that's happened, with Dad and stuff,"

"And Hunter," she decided to point out. I gave her a smile and shook my head.

"That's over, I'm done with it now," I told her, "where's Isaac?" I asked, realizing he hadn't come back in.

"He went up the stairs or something..." she looked at me tentatively, "how are things with him?" She asked.

"Fine," I said, "he's a comfort to me, I like him a lot, and I think I'll grow to love him." The mere thought that he'd threatened me was shoved away by the fact that I really had done something stupid. If you stick to the rules, you won't get hurt. It's simple, really.

Mary K. looked at me, her normally cute, pretty eyes sharp and intuitive, "you were so upset when I left, and now you say you're fine."

I shrugged, "things change, I guess. Do you want some tea?" I asked, seeing as we'd been standing in the doorway far too long.

"Sure," she said. Of course, that was when I realized that I hadn't a clue where I was in the house. Isaac must have carried me here when I was out. Fortunately, the entrance hall was outside, so I got my bearings and led Mary K. to the kitchen and lounge. "This house is massive," she murmured, studying the staircase as we walked past.

"I know. It has a pool and a wine cellar and everything."

"Nice," she whistled, "How old is this place?"

"I haven't a clue, actually," I said, flicking on the kettle, "Isaac's not here much. I guess I'll be able to chat with him on the weekend." We did need to talk about things. I needed to explain to him what the circle was about...and maybe if I could still do it—a bolt of pain suddenly shot through me. My vision became a swirl of black and green. I gripped the worktop for support.

"Morgan?" Mary K.'s voice came from behind me, "what's wrong?" The colours cleared and I was once again in the kitchen, Mary K.'s hand on my shoulder.

"Nothing," I said. I knew what it was, though. The memory of the two lights – if black can be considered a light – causing me such pain. I guessed that they'd been pulling my magick out. "I'm just really tired," I murmured, and stood up straight and began putting teabags in the pot.

Mary K. gave me a concerned glance but seemed to accept my excuse. "So am I, it's been a long day." I looked at the clock above the TV. Only one in the morning. It was total darkness outside, the rainclouds were so dense, no moonlight could get through.

"How did you get out of there?" I asked her, "God, how did you get _here _in the middle of the night?"

"Oh I'm just as capable of you and Alisa when it comes to sneaking around," she told me with a grin.

"Do as I say and not as I do, MK, I'm a crap role model for a sister," I warned her.

"Ah, don't worry, I think dancing round a fire stark naked is perfectly responsible," I turned to glare at her and she poked her tongue out.

I sighed, "Just get on with the story, Miss. Witty." But I grinned at her and went about finding something we could eat.

"Well, basically during prep I was sitting in my little cubical of a room, colouring stuff in, because presentation seems to be more important than the actual drivel at St. Anne's, and my matron came in to give me my extension stuff and to give me my daily dosage of crap about how I wasn't interacting with the other girls and was I alright and stuff about Dad, which I really did not want to get into. And somehow her dorm keys magically slipped into my hands..." she watched for my reaction.

"You stole something?" I exclaimed, slamming the fridge door.

"Yup," she said back, cool as ever, "and then I hijacked her car, of course."

"Mary. K! You can't _drive!_" I yelled"You could have crashed! You could have been pulled up by the police! Why didn't you just call me?"

She let out a sad laugh. "Why didn't _you_ call _me_, Morgan?" she asked, her tone piercing me more than even Isaac's had. "I haven't heard from you for over two months! Even my hell hole has a phone!" That stopped me short. Why hadn't I called her? With the whirlwind of Mom's illness and Isaac's proposal, in all the confusion, I'd thought about her, but I hadn't called her.

"Oh God, MK I'm so sorry," I said and swept her into a hug. She sniffed and I realized she was crying over my shoulder.

"It was awful being there, with no one to talk to about everything that's been happening. Mom hasn't rung at all, you know. I felt so isolated. I know you have your own problems Morgan, and I know I'm not even really your family but..."

I pulled back and put my hands on her shoulders, staring straight at her. "Mary Kathleen Rowlands you are most certainly my family, you are my one and only sister, no arguments, no scientific junk, _you are my sister! _And I'm so sorry I haven't been a good sister back lately. There's no excuse for it, and I promise I'll be much better from now on. Okay?"

She nodded, blinking back her tears, "'kay."

"Right," I said, looking her up and down again. I realized she looked a little damp, "you're staying here tonight; God knows this house has enough spare rooms to accommodate a small army."

"Thanks," she whispered.

"C'mon, we'll go find that husband of mine," maybe I didn't see it, or maybe I didn't want to see it, but my sister flinched right then, flinched at the word which I simply marvelled at. I was beginning to enjoy saying it. "He's probably in his office."

"He guessed who I was," said Mary K. as we walked up the stairs

"I s'pose we have very similar mannerisms."

"Yeah, but at least you can stand up straight at this time of night, I'm pretty much dead."

"Well I wasn't playing reality Grand Theft Auto all day," I said, still suppressing my horror at the thought of my little sister loose in a stranger's car.

We reached the landing and I led her down the hall to Isaac's office. I knocked. "Come in," he said. He seemed to have calmed down. I hoped he had; I needed to convince Mary K. that everything was great with him. We slipped in, Mary K. taking my hand like she used to whenever we went into a store with an owner she didn't know.

Isaac sat at his desk, reading through some papers. He looked up when we entered.

"Mary K.'s somewhat homeless," I explained to him, "can she stay here while I get stuff sorted?"

"Of course," he said, "most of the spare rooms are upstairs, on the left. The beds should be made."

"Thank you, very much," MK said with the politeness my mother hand impressed upon us. I think Mary K. kept more of it than I did; diplomacy was not my strong point. "I'm sorry I didn't give you any warning, I had no idea where else to go."

"Don't be," Isaac said, looking at her, "you're my sister-in-law now."

Mary K. smiled, "yeah," she said. I think she was warming to him...ever so slightly.

"Come on," I said, and tugged her out of the room. I glanced back and Isaac. He nodded at me, telling me we'd talk of what had happened after I'd got Mary K. settled.

I dug out some pyjamas which didn't have lace draped over every seam and some jeans and a t-shirt and carried them up the stairs. Mary K. being Mary K. had managed to bring absolutely nothing clothing wise, just the uniform she was in and a jacket. "How ironic," I murmured, dumping the clothes on her queen sized four poster bed, "you used to be the one to dress me up, you remember?"

"Of course," she said, flopping down on the mattress, "you've never had very good fashion sense."

"Oh you are so mean!" I exclaimed. She giggled and spread out about five seconds later her eyelids shuttered and she was fast asleep. I smiled. She looked as she'd always looked when she was asleep. So peaceful, so innocent. I chucked the pyjamas on the floor and doubled the duvet she wasn't lying on over top of her. "Night, MK." I whispered, then I turned off the light and went back downstairs. I didn't dread walking back to my room. I didn't figure dreading my husband would help. I just needed to explain and apologize. Then everything would be fine. I figured he'd rather come to me, so I went to my room and started getting undressed. I was in the same clothes as I had been in yesterday, so my jeans were slathered in mud from the knees down. I took them off, trying not to get dried mud all over the carpet, and then unceremoniously dumped them in a corner, henceforth making the former action totally pointless.

I was still making discoveries of what my mother had packed for me as I trundled through the drawers, looking for a nightgown or something. I found one, eventually, and slipped it on.

I was walking back to the bed after switching the light off when the door opened. I felt his strong arms slide around my waist from behind, his warm breath in my ear. "Morgan, you will tell me three things, and we will be done with it, okay?"

"Yes," I whispered to the darkness.

"Who asked you to use your magic?"

"Bree," I told him, anxious to get it over with.

"Why did she want you to?" He kept his lips close to my ear.

"My half-brother, she said he'd been injured or something,"

Silence followed this for a bit, then he asked abruptly, "Did you help him?"

"No, of course not," I said, "I told her to take him to a hospital."

"Right," suddenly he spun me around to face him. The open door gave just enough light to see the glint of intensity in his eyes. "Now tell me; did your spell work? Is your power gone?"

I hesitated, "...I don't know."

"Can you find out now?" He asked me.

I shook my head, "not without using it." He took a deep breath. I worried for a moment if I'd angered him again. Five minutes passed in a painful silence, until he took another deep breath.

"Use it then. Not much, and not on me, just use it." He stepped back from me.

I nodded hesitantly. "I do this for you, not because I want to," I told him. I put a hand to my chest and tried to clear my thoughts. What could I do? I didn't want to scare him or make him angrier. Using one Gaelic word from a very small vocabulary, I held out my hand, face up, and said hesitantly, "_Solas." _Nothing happened. Something charged into my chest then. A drop of frenzy. What if I didn't have my magick? What would that mean? What would I do? Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God.

"Morgan, calm down," said Isaac coolly, "try it again."

"Right," I whispered. I held out my hand again and whispered the word _"Solas." _Nothing. I waited. The clock ticked. I tried one more time. _"Solas!" _I almost shouted this time. Suddenly, the room was ablaze in light, ever detail, every corner, white and nothing else. I looked to Isaac. He was turned away from me, leaning heavily on the wall. His chest heaved. I clasped my hand shut; the room plunged into darkness again.

Everything was quiet. The only sound was Isaac's heavy breathing. My palms sweated. "Isaac?" I whispered tentatively.

"Wait," he growled. I stood stock still, as if I'd encountered a vicious animal and it could leap at any moment. But I knew Isaac was more than that, however much he scared me at present. I wrung my hands out, wondering what was wrong. I though back to the last time he'd seen my magick, at the reception. He'd reacted so calmly. Now...it was like it weakened him. Suddenly he turned; I saw his vague outline come swiftly towards me in the dark. His arm went around my waist, pulling me roughly toward him, his other hand went on the back of my head as he crushed his lips to mine. I let out a sigh, more of relief than anything, and pulled myself closer to him as he pulled off my nightgown.

He walked us backward to the bed, and I lay back, his warm, muscular body moving in on me. I decided to forget about earlier, and sunk into bliss as my husband made love to me.

_Hunter_

I ran through the bare and thrashing trees. They grabbed hold of my jacket, but I ripped it away. My mage sight guided me, but it was the blackest of nights, no moon was in the sky. Mud splattered up my jeans, my shoes were already soaked through. I grunted as a branch scratched through my chest. _Goddess, no Morgan, don't. _I thought that and only that. Pain wasn't much of an issue. Rain caught in my eyes, I wiped it off hastily, still running. Thunder cracked somewhere in the distance. The lightning followed, or the other way, I didn't care. My scene split into dark and light, the trees flashed an eerie white. Breathless, I kept going. I could feel power here, but my perception was confused by the lightning. The goddess's fury, that was for sure.

Thunder suddenly groaned in the distance, louder than before. I came to an abrupt halt. I realized no running could save her now, there was no time. The taste of a spell was on my lips, I knew she was at the final stages of making the worst mistake of her life. Worse than making love to that bastard Hadrian, worse than marrying him, worse than falling for Cal Blaire, worse than anything. She was going to strip her powers.

I fell to my knees. "Goddess, Morgan, don't, don't Morgan, don't," I whispered to the night, the blowing leaves, the violent trees. "Don't do this, not to me, not to you." I choked down tears, my hands gripping the dirt, my body hunched over. "Don't, please don't." _Don't be an arse, Niall, get up and do something! _I don't know what spoke right then, my father, perhaps? But my sub-conscience worked. I stood, my seeker senses kicking in. I raised my hand to the thrashing trees in front of me.

_"Sábháil!" _I shouted.

Green light suddenly flew from my hand, shooting like a fountain of water. It pulsed through my arm and out, out weaving through the trees, a continuous string. It beat through the twigs and violent branches faster than any man. Then I felt it touch something, another force, equal to its own. I realized it was Morgan. I felt her circle. It was small, but powerful, protected. It felt like her magick. Goddess, I wanted to stop and marvel, but I couldn't. I carved the power around and around the barriers of a circle, giving it extra protection, but this protection was against the magick she called for.

I couldn't see what I was doing, I just felt it. That was why I almost flew backwards when another force joined. This one I knew well. I drove my magick out harder, throwing in all my energy and might. I would not let him save her from such a terrible fate, not when he would give it to her anyway. With my other hand I clutched my heritage, the thing which gave me such power. My channel of light got stronger, brighter, as I continued smothering Morgan's call for eternal darkness, eternal blindness. I'd already lost Alisa's; I would not lose my Morgan's.

Suddenly, something broke. The energy of Morgan's circle snapped and collapsed. I released my magick. Then I stood, staring at the endless forest of swaying trees. The storm was calming, though the rain continued. Sweet Goddess. My _muirn beatha dan _had almost stripped her powers...oh sweet Morgan! I had to get her back; I had to save her from that bastard.

That bastard who had probably just felt my power. _Shit! _I took off back the way I came, relying on my witch compass to tell me where the car was, charging through the trees once more. I wasn't ready to fight a battle, not physically at least. My arms ached, my entire body felt sluggish from all the magick I'd just used. Still, I could run. I knew I was putting Morgan in danger, but right then, I couldn't go back to check on her, not when I _knew _Hadrian was there. So long as she had her powers, he needed her, or at least that was what I figured. That was what I hoped for at present.

I reached the car on the side of the country road and hopped in. I swerved dangerously, doing a U turn, and headed back for Widow's Vale, throwing up every barrier and glamour I knew around the car and myself.

For the second night in a row, I found myself facing Bree on the doorstep of her house; my body battered and bruised my news absolutely bad. The only solace I could take was in the fact that I had _saved _someone's powers this time.

"Did she see you?" Bree asked, closing the door.

"No," I said, "she might have sensed me. I just don't know."

"You sound beaten," Bree observed, heading for the kitchen.

"Yeah, I am," I muttered grumpily, and went upstairs to check on Killian.

Sky sat by his bedside, putting a flannel on his head whilst talking into a phone, "...I told you, it's sort of looking dead, or like its decaying or something...Goddess, I don't know!" She exclaimed, then spotted me standing in the doorway. "Oh look, here's Hunter, go speak to him." She thrust the phone into my hands and stomped out of the room. So I wasn't the only one insane with tiredness...

"Hunter?" It was my father's voice on the end of the line. I almost groaned. Now I knew what had Sky so stroppy. It wasn't midnight in England, it was eight or something. So my da would be wide awake, and keen to discuss Killian's condition. All honourable intents aside, I really wasn't.

"Hi Da," I said, not counting on him to pick up on my about-to-drop-dead-on-the-floor mood.

"How are you?" He asked.

"Fed up, worn out, covered in all manner of scratches, confused, and _extremely tired,_" It wasn't like me to be stroppy with my Da. If he'd been here I was sure I'd have been on the receiving end of a clip of the ear by now.

Of course, he didn't pick up on the last two words, "confused about Killian's case?"

"No," I sighed wearily, "confused why the love of my life almost stripped her powers tonight, how she could marry that bastard in the first place, amongst other things."

There was quiet for a moment, in which I almost dropped off to sleep, but then my father's voice came soft and clear, "I speak from experience, Hunter, when I say that when you leave someone who loves you, you take away more than just what you gave to them...you take away meaning itself."

* * *

You will note that I did not need much imagination to write Hunter's tiredness, I'm going to go sleep now, tally ho! Review! Show me your love, your hatred, your grammatical genius, review!


	10. Chapter 10

_Alright, it's been over eight weeks since the last chapter. I am really sorry. But I have some good excuses._

_In the time I have been absent from the wonderful realm of Fanfics, I have been to England for three weeks, I have written an insanely long thing about Soviet Russia, I have been molested and, of course, this weekend we had a magnitude seven EARTHQUAKE! which had me frozen in my bed._

_(In my confusion and fear, I totally forgot to leap out and get under the table and instead just lay there)_

_However, fear not, here is the next chapter. I have had horrible, _horrible _writer's block, so forgive me if it is not my normal standard of gobble-de-goop._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

I woke up at the beginning of the dawn, though the light was faint. Isaac's body was behind me, his arm around me, encircling my body in warmth. I sighed. It was Sunday, and everything felt perfect. Mary K. and I were sorting out a school for her. Though I'd told her she could take a break for a couple of weeks if she wanted, she'd been pretty adamant about going, saying that she "wanted things to get back to normal."

I'd frowned and said "MK...things can't get back to the way they used to be."

She'd nodded, "I know, but if I can get back any trace of it, I will. After all this stuff going on, I just want to get back to the familiar, don't you?"

I'd looked at her a little blankly. I'd been pretty sure that none of the familiar was left...

I pondered it again now, as I listened to the rain patter on the windows. There really wasn't anything left. Bree was being so serious all the time, Robbie was, of course, with her on everything...my mom was getting better towards me again, but she still didn't seem motherly, and of course Wicca had taken up so much of the past couple of years that a lot of the original stuff I used to do had been forgotten.

I thought back to things way before Wicca waltzed in. I remembered going ice skating and going to the movies in Redkill, and the parties I occasionally went to. I remember snitching on senior guys with Bree, and then analysing all their actions later at her house whilst drinking countless cups of coffee and stuffing our faces with all manner of junk food, once in the hope that I might actually gain a bit of cleavage. I remembered going to church with my family and then going to Widow's Diner afterwards...I could still do that, couldn't I? It was a Sunday; Isaac was probably going to go anyway.

The man in question moved in his sleep behind me. I rolled over to face him, trying not to disrupt his comforting arm. I looked at his face. The coarse features were still there, including the short scar on his left cheek, which I still hadn't asked him about. His skin still looked a little grey, and his lips were settled in a bit of a scowl, but sleep seemed to soften the edges of his rigid face, his messy hair made him look a little younger. I reached out to stroke his cheek. As soon as my fingertip touched his smooth cheekbone his eyelids flew open and his black eyes gave the ugliest, scariest look I'd ever seen, it was like a dagger driving straight into my body. My hand pulled back in fright. But in a blink the look was gone, replaced with the normal, blank look he usually has.

"Good morning, Morgan," he said, wrapping both his arms round my waist.

"Morning," I said, breathless, but recovering, from that awful stare.

"How are you?" He asked.

"Fine," I said, "my head's not too bad this morning." He nodded.

"That's good."

"So what church do you usually go to?"

He flicked a piece of hair from my face before answering, "Just one around Red Kill."

I nodded, "Right. When's mass?"

"Now, I think," he said, "we'd better get ready." He slipped out of bed and went to find some clothes. I got up too, tying on my dressing gown.

"I'll go ask MK if she wants to come," I said. I went out into the hall and up the stairs, and then knocked on Mary K's door. "Hey, you up?"

"Yup!" She called from inside, chirpily as ever.

"Do you want to come to mass?" I asked.

"Sure," she said, opening the door. She was already dressed in a skirt and tank top, her wet hair over one shoulder. "Will I look decent enough like this?" She asked.

"Yeah, put a jacket on though," I suggested, "it's raining."

"Of course it is," she said with a grin. "It's so nice to wear a skirt above my ankles! Jeez! It was like back in medieval England."

Ever since she'd gotten back, Mary K had taken great delight in things which I really hadn't noticed. And every time she mentioned how great it was not having burnt porridge for breakfast, or not having to sleep in the same room as anyone else, I felt guilt storm inside me. How could I have forgotten her like I did?

"Oh well, you'll never have to go back," I said for the millionth time, and left her so I could get changed.

We left at eight; Isaac drove with me in the front and Mary K. in the back, eagerly taking in the countryside she'd missed for so long. She reminded me so much of a child, even though I knew that after what she'd been through, she couldn't have been. "So what's your church like?" I asked, watching the windscreen wipers go up and down.

"Oh, it's nice," he said, "I try to be as inconspicuous is possible. When you're a businessman you don't want people to know you. Not at a place like church."

"Right," I said, getting what he meant. We drove along in silence for a while. I realized this was the only day that I could really get to know him, so I decided to ask the basics. "So where do you come from?" I asked. It was rather strange, knowing so little about my husband. I had figured that when I got married I would know my husband inside from out; his quirks, his habits, his likes, his dislikes, his whole ex-girlfriend story, everything. I didn't know Isaac at all well, even though I felt a connection with him.

"Washington D.C." he said, keeping his eyes intently on the road.

"You sound British," I pointed out. What a weird conversation to have with my husband...

"I spent some time over there, sorting out the business," he said.

"Right," I said. He clearly wasn't for sharing right now. Perhaps he was one of those people who hated being talked to when they were trying to drive, though I had the memory of the car journey home. He'd talked a little then. I gave it a mental shrug and decided to leave off. It had been a very late night last night, what with Mary K.'s return and my idiotic use of magick. He seemed to have forgiven me. I hoped he had.

It was about ten more minutes before we entered into a little town called Lauton. It was a little way past Red Kill, as Isaac had said. The chapel was large in comparison to the size of the town. We got out into the pouring rain and Mary K. and I quickly sprinted to the doors, freezing in our skirts. Isaac followed, though he didn't seem bothered by the rain. His hand was held out to catch some as he walked towards us.

We went in to the chapel. It wasn't as nice as St. Mary's, but it was quite pretty, decorated with lots of flowers and there was a scent of vanilla and roses in the air. We arrived just in time, and slid into the last pew. Isaac and Mary K. sat on either side of me. We were almost like a family, I thought.

The organ then let out its long, triumphant sound and we stood to sing 'Hail Redeemer King Divine'. The loud, almost boisterous singing filled me with joy, and then the descant in the last verse sent welcome chills up my spine. Everything was then quiet and peaceful as the priest read from the gospels and rain pattered on the stained glass windows. I'd forgotten how much I enjoyed the traditions and routine of going to church.

But then we bowed our heads in prayer , and I tried. I tried to connect with God, with the Church, with everything, but it didn't work. I found myself thinking only of frustration, and praying for no one. Fortunately the prayers ended, and the priest then read from the gospels.

Mary K. shifted next to me when it was time for communion. I let her past me, but I didn't go up myself. Somehow I just couldn't when it wasn't real. Isaac didn't go up, which surprised me. I gave him a questioning look, but his head was bent in prayer.

The service ended shortly after, and we walked outside into the spit. Isaac looked extremely angry. "Isaac?" I asked worriedly, "what is it?"

"Nothing, Morgan, nothing," he told me. He reached into his pocket and brought out some ten dollar notes. "Go and get some food – there's a cafe down the road - I have to go deal with something." With that he walked to his car.

"Jeez, he can be kinda cold sometimes, can't he?" Observed Mary K., watching him leave the car park. I shrugged.

"He's a businessman; he has to put up with a lot." We started walking along the street

She wasn't convinced, "I'm sure he could be nicer if he tried." Fortunately, she caught sight of an outfit in one of the shop windows and dragged me in, all thoughts now turned to the first impression she had to make for her return to Widow's Vale High.

Hunter

Light pressed in on me through the window, and dim and feeble as it was, I couldn't ignore it. My eyes flickered open. I was in a bedroom...in Bree's house. I groaned and rolled over in bed. The enormity of what had happened over the past week was now upon me again.

It was those few seconds of peace before I fully woke up which I wished for permanently, where my memory hadn't started up. But there I was in the forest, watching my love try to throw her magick away, and there I was afterwards, lying in the same bed I was in now, my father's words going round again and again in my head. _When you leave someone who loves you, you take away more than just what you gave to them...you take away meaning itself. _Goddess, I knew now, for certain, that I should have told Morgan that Hadrian was out to get me.

I should have warned her about who he was. I should have saved her father.

All these things, running through my head every minute of the past four days. I'd had nothing to do but lament; stopping my muirn beatha dan's magick from leaving her had taken a lot from me, I'd been confined to my room since I got back. I had effectively stopped the Goddess. Although, I'd had help from the very seed of my guilt and anger. Hadrian. And what made things worse was that I knew I couldn't have done it without him. My power alone, even with the extra magick I had acquired a year ago, was not enough to stop the heir of Belwicket if she wished to give her gift to the Goddess. But with the power of all the witches Hadrian had stripped, Morgan had been saved...just.

For two days afterwards I could do little other than sleep and walk from my room to Killian's. My magick felt like little more than a shrivelled leaf to the great forest it had been when I'd left England. I was drained. But four days of doing hardly anything had done a lot to restore me. Now I was feeling at least a bit shrubbish...

I groaned again and slid out of the covers. With Killian in the room next to me and Alisa in the one after him, Bree's house was looking more like an infirmary. Alisa was still having fitful dreams. Alyce had been doing healing spells with her, but Alisa was no longer a witch; magick wasn't so effective on her. She didn't want to worry her father, so she'd been staying here, trying to fill such an empty space. I heard her crying sometimes when I was checking on Killian, but there was nothing anyone could do to comfort her. How could there be? There would be an empty space for the rest of her life...and it could have been the same for Morgan.

Killian wasn't improving either. He hadn't spoken a lucid word since he had collapsed, and now he was in a deep fever. Sky stayed with him a lot of the time with him, sometimes working spells, but they didn't work. Da rang up almost every night, always with something new to try for Killian. We had no idea what it was, though, and so nothing worked. Morgan was our only hope...

I shook my head and wiped the sleep out of my eyes. Rain pattered on the flowerbox outside. The Sunday sky was dark with clouds. I pulled on a shirt and jeans and padded down to the kitchen, my muscles still aching a little. Bree stood peering into the fridge.

"Morning," I said.

"Morning," she replied, coming out with a carton of eggs, "how are you today?"

"Alive again," I told her, leaning against the counter, "how's Killian?"

"Quiet..." she looked at me worriedly, "he got worse in the night; the black thing's reached his shoulders now...it's like a plague."

I nodded. "Thanks for doing all of this, Bree. Putting up with everything, with Killian and me and Sky."

She flicked her hair over her shoulder and cracked an egg into the pan. "I don't have much choice in it," she said blankly, "Morgan's my best friend, and the only hope of getting her back is you, so I'll do what I can to help."

"You have no idea how thankful I am," I told her.

"I don't want your thanks," she said quietly, her back to me, "I want Morgan back."

"I know," I whispered, almost to myself. Sky walked into the kitchen, her boot heels clicking on the tiles.

"Morning," she said, her dark blue eyes scanning me up and down. "Good, you're in fighting order. We need to go and check out the barriers around Hadrian's house. We can't attack unless we know what's against us."

"This is sounding more and more like a war," murmured Bree, turning around to face us.

"With Hadrian, it is," said Sky bluntly, "right, Bree can you ring the house and make sure they're out?"

"Sure," said Bree, switching off the stove. She grabbed the phone from the countertop and dialled in the number. After a few seconds she put it back. "All clear."

"Thanks," said Sky, and looked at me, "time to go."'

"Without breakfast?" Bree said with extremely motherly dismay.

Sky shrugged, "Nope, I need my troops to be tough and hardy." Then I was dragged from the room, rolling my eyes for Bree's benefit.

"Save me some for later," I said with a grin.

I grabbed my jacket at the door and we headed out into the pouring rain. "Goddess," muttered Sky, squinting at the dark clouds, "this is almost as bad as British weather."

"I know," I said. We slid into my car and I switched the heating on.

As we coasted along the empty country road, I glanced at Sky. The last time I had seen her had been over a year ago, after I'd moved back to England. "I'm sorry I left you waiting for me in France," I said to her, guiding the car through the dense rain.

"She's your _muirn beatha dan, _Hunter – if you hadn't come here as soon as possible I would be angrier. It was a little worrying, though. I thought you'd vowed never to scry for her again?"

One of the first things I'd done after leaving Morgan was vow never to make contact or search for her, in case it brought her to Hadrian's attention. I knew Hadrian was monitoring me, I knew I had to get far away from Widow's Vale, keep Morgan from his sight. So I had run away in the night, like a coward...

_I hurriedly threw a few t-shirts and jumpers into my bag, followed by some boxers and my passport. Da was in the next room, asleep. I couldn't tell him what was going to happen. I knew he was coming for me, I could feel his presence coming up the street. I shoved my athame through my belt, and said a quick prayer for the Goddess to watch over me on this night. Then I took my bag and walked outside. The sun was no more, now all there was was night. I threw my bag into the boot of my Honda and shut it with a slam. He was here._

"_Niall." The voice came out of the darkness._

"_Hadrian," I replied. Adrenaline, not fear, pumped through me. Fear would not save Morgan. The man who I had only seen in visions up until this point now walked into the light of the lonely street lamp. He was tall, dressed in black clothing, his face clear and straight, his skin, even in the yellow streetlamp, was grey and pallid._

"_You have something of interest to me," he said._

_I set my eyes directly on his with a short smile, "I do." His black eyes glared at me._

"_You will hand it over to me now," he ordered._

_My eyes narrowed, "I will, will I?"_

"_Unless you wish to die, you will," he was deadly calm. Confident._

"_Try your best then," I said, reaching to my neck for the strong leather plait. I pulled out the reason he had come to me on this night, had threatened me so. It was a large gold pentacle, worn out by the thousand years of life, backed by a metal shield. Into it were carved the four elements, giving a clue to the true power of my heritage._

_I watched as Hadrian licked his lips hungrily. The man was truly wild. His eyes flashed up to mine. "I would just hand it over, Niall," he said hoarsely._

_I smiled again, confident now I could feel the pentacle's warm glow on my hand, "no, come and get it."_

_Hadrian waiting only a second before hurling a ball of dark magick at me. I had never felt anything so powerful in my life – not even Morgan could have wielded something this strong. I deflected it doubtfully, but my pentacle served its purpose, and I remained relatively unscathed. I returned his hit with my own. I still wasn't used to wielding so much power; it went wildly off line and hit the road. Hadrian laughed darkly. "Give it to me, Niall – you can hardly control it."_

_I glared at him and attacked again, this time only ordering a little of the pentacle into the magick. It hit right on target, but it still wasn't strong enough. Hadrian growled and advanced on me, hand outstretched, reaching for my pentacle._

_I stepped back, and thrust my power at him. He deflected it this time, and continued on. _

_We fought, neither winning, neither truly losing._

_Suddenly, I felt a surge of hellish pain in my chest and I realized he'd thrown two at once. I groaned, falling to my knees. Hadrian walked over to me. My pentacle swung in front of me. He was going to take it..._

"_Giomanach!" It was Da. I sensed that he stood in the doorway, anger pulsing out of him. Hadrian looked up, hesitating._

_My father began to chant, _'ligean do dhuine loitim! Milli—'

'Duine a chur ina thost!' _Hadrian yelled, his hand thrown out at my father. Da cried out, I knew he had fallen. I turned back to Hadrian, now a new anger burning in me. I remembered the athame in my belt, and yanked it out. In the moment of Hadrian's hesitation, I charged my athame, calling upon the wind, the water, the earth, the fires of the ancient times._

"Táthaím!" _I cried, and slashed the athame across Hadrian's cheek. Blood spurted. I leapt up as he flew back, his head smacking the concrete. My seeker senses quickly told me he was unconscious. I turned around to my father. He lay on the doorstep, out cold. "Da!" I choked, running up to him. Blood covered his neck. There was too much of it. For a moment, I lost all control. The very earth I stood on collapsed for a second. But then suddenly a rhyme came to me. An ancient one, from long ago._

'A chara dorchadas a dhéanamh imeacht ó dhuit,  
I gcás biotáille, Tadhg, a bheith dea  
Deisiúchán an damáiste a dhéanamh liom a fheiceáil go  
Ba chóir breathnú ar Lig dó mar an fiúntach'

_I watched in awe as the blood went back through the massive slash in my father's neck. It didn't fully seal, but it partially healed. It amazed me. I had done that, with the help of my pentacle. Da was still unconscious, but I sensed he would live. Now it was time to leave, and lead Hadrian away from my Morgan, and her friends. I picked up my father – he wasn't too heavy, seeing as he still hadn't gotten back to a healthy weight – and buckled him into the backseat._

_I got in the front and revved the engine. But then I looked in the direction of Morgan's house. _Leave, Hunter, before you lose your nerve, _my inner seeker told me. I drove out onto the road, pain stabbing at my heart, and made for the highway. I was only past a few houses when there was a great clunk on the back of the car. I swivelled round to look._

_There, in the middle of the road, stood Hadrian, dark fire raging in his hands, sharp anger on his face. But he could not attack me again, not tonight_

"Hunter!" Sky's voice brought me back to the present. "Wake up! You're driving here!"

"Bloody hell!" I cursed, swerving out of the path of an oncoming truck.

"Goddess!" Exclaimed Sky, "Choose your flashback moments better, Giomanach!"

"Sorry," I grumbled, ensuring we were on the right side of the road, "so what was the question?"

"Your vow," she told me.

"Oh, right..." I searched for something, some reason, but, as I knew at the time, "it was for the sight of a face," I told Sky.

"Well it was lucky you did," she said, and we left it at that.

Soon I pulled over into the same place I'd parked four nights ago. We got out into a thin layer of mud, both of us armed with our athames. "How far is it?" Asked Sky, looking out at the dark woods beyond us.

"It depends, I not sure how far his barriers extend,"

"Right." We began walking along the road. After fifteen minutes of walking through the spitting rain, we reached the entrance to the driveway. Two large stone pillars stood on either side of a cobbled road.

_Cheldon Manor_

The words were engraved in silver on the left column. I gazed at them for a moment. "Look," said Sky, pointing the right one, "it's strange that Morgan didn't see that." I studied the stone closely, and realized that some of it was discoloured. Zooming my vision out, I realised that the sloped 'N' shape of the rune _Ur _was set into the column.

"Apparently," I said "she stopped using her magick – her senses will be out of practise."

Sky frowned, "I bet you that house is brimming with magick and she hasn't noticed it. How on earth could she stop using her magick? How could it stop using _her_?"

I sighed, "You know Morgan; she's strong willed. If she wants to delude herself, she will."

Sky nodded. "Oh well, let's get down to it. How are we going to see where these barriers are?"

Putting a hand to the pentacle around my neck, I drew the simple arrow of Kenaz in the air, "_Kenaz!" _Suddenly runes appeared on the ground just outside of the gates. Dark and thick, both of us knew these were evil. I knelt down, careful not to get too close, and studied the deep grooves in the dirt. "We were lucky we didn't cross over these. They're directly connected to him," I pointed to one, "and this one would have frozen us."

"Like a spider web," muttered Sky, "what a bastard."

"These would have taken him ages," I said, standing and following the little trail of rune carvings further, "days at least. These runes are complex."

"Since when were you such an expert on dark runes?" Asked Sky.

"Since I took lessons with one of the Council witches on them," the trail led through into the bushes. We walked on.

"How did you convince them to do that? I thought you didn't tell them about Hadrian," said Sky, following behind me.

"I didn't, but he's been stirring up the Council for a while now. They thought it best if I was prepared,"

"Well, that's probably one of the only good decisions they've made lately," she said, "are you _ever_ going to tell them about all this?"

"I don't see any point," I said, brushing away a tree branch from the trail, "they can't do much – they'll just cause a panic and Hadrian will slip away with Morgan. If he leaves, we might lose him for years, as many witches have done before. We have to keep him here."

We continued on for over an hour, walking through the woods immediately next to the large wall. We found only one weak spot, where a small creek ran across the trail. There were still runes there, but I knew it was weaker. "If we break in from here, we won't know where we are." I said to Sky.

"Ah, cousin, get with the twenty-first century," Sky grinned at me. I returned it with confusion, "Google Maps – it's a magickal thing called a website." She shook her head. "Honestly, Giomanach, you think that magick is the only cure for things."

We kept on walking, in search of another, more accessible break in the barriers. Keeping the barriers visible put a heavy strain on my magick. "Let me take over," said Sky, as we followed the runes along the outskirts of a muddy field.

"No," I told her, "We're almost finished, I'm sure."

As it was, it took us another half hour to get round to the driveway again. We had found no more faults in the barriers, and once again faced the stone pillars, now drenched and tired. And it wasn't even eleven yet. We went back to the car, and Sky demanded that she drive, saying I was looking too tired. "Besides, if you have another flashback, I want to have a firm grasp on the wheel."

I groaned, sliding into the passenger seat, "so now what, Sergeant Athar?"

She grinned at the name as she revved up the engine and pulled onto the road, "Now we go back to Bree's house and warm up. Then we'll work out what to do next."

"We're not going to be able to take on Hadrian, not even with all these extra people."

"You almost killed Hadrian alone, Hunter; with these other people backing you up, he won't have a chance."

I shook my head, "I told you, Hadrian's been stirring up the Council lately. It's because been attacking far more witches than he used to. He knows I'm a threat, he's taken more witches magick in the past two years than all his other attacks put together – he's stronger now."

"We'll find a way," she said. I stayed quiet. I didn't think we would find a way, not without someone ending up powerless or dead.

Bree's house was a warm haven out of the pouring rain. We sat at the kitchen table drinking hot soup with Bree, Robbie, Charlie and Alisa, who'd made her first appearance since that dark night just a few days ago. "We went round the entire house," Sky told everyone, "it's pretty much bulletproof. There's only one fault, but the wall there is too high."

"Could we dismantle it like we did with Alisa's blocks?" Asked Bree.

"They're more complex," I told her, "it might be possible...but it might not be."

"What does he even want with Morgan?" said Robbie, biting down on a piece of toast, "Why hasn't he stripped her powers yet?"

Alisa gripped Charlie's hand tightly at the other end of the table.

"I don't know," I said, "it's never been said that he was out for anything other than more power."

"Yes, but he's not exactly going for TV interviews and autobiographies," Sky pointed out, "we hardly know anything about him."

"But we know that Morgan's in danger, and we have to get her out of there," said Bree. They began discussing the option of bringing in all the witches they knew and dismantling the barriers with brute force.

I stood up and left the kitchen. They didn't understand the sort of power Hadrian could wield.

I went into Bree's pool room, where we used to have our circles. It hadn't changed at all. I pulled my lueg out of my pocket and sat cross legged on the ground.

There I spoke the same words I had spoken on the Cliffs of Dover, there I begged for an answer.

"_Show me now what I should see,_

_What was past or what will be._

_The stream of time will start to slow;_

_Show me where I need to go."_

My fingers touched the cool surface of the stone. My eyelids closed.

Morgan's face appeared before mine. Beautiful, striking, bold. And yet behind her I could make out a stained glass window, and an organ playing. I understood that this was the present. The image slowly changed, faded. Now I was shown the pavement by the Rowland's house. The garden was unkempt and messy, the paint of the house flaky. The image moved forwards, the door swung open, inside it was dark and silent. Then we sped down the hall and up the stairs. There, on the second landing, the vision settled on an air vent. It was about the move forward again when my vision cut out.

My only sight was darkness.

"_Hunter," _a man's voice chimed in the black chasm.

"_Hunter Niall," _Hadrian's unmistakable voice surrounded me.

"_Leave Widow's Vale, Hunter," _it whispered, _"before I kill."_

"_Never," _I said out into nothingness.

"_I have control over two people very close to Morgan. If you do not leave right now, one of them will die."_

"_What do you want from Morgan?" _I demanded.

"_I am sure you were there in the graveyard with MacEwan. You know my answer."_

"_And you know my power, Hadrian," _I seethed, _"I am not Killian, I am the heir of Gawain. Tell me. Now."_

"_No. Take heed of my warning. If you do not leave I will kill."_

His voice faded out and I was once again sitting on the stone floor of the pool room. What was he talking about? I had a sick feeling in my stomach...

A shriek came from upstairs. "Killian!" I leapt up and ran from the poolroom and up the stairs, bursting into Killian's room. The others weren't far behind me.

Killian writhed on the bed, his covers kicked off, the horrible blackness like a claw on his bare chest, rippling. His back lifted, he shrieked, tears seeping from his eyes. "Killian!" I tried to restrain him, but he was suddenly indecently strong. _His last bout of strength. _His eyes, bloodshot and bulging, looked straight at me.

"_Leave!" _His voice croaked. I knew it was not his own. It was Hadrian's.

"Stop this!" I roar, knowing he could hear me. Killian suddenly gagged, blood spurting up from his mouth. He wrangled around into unearthly positions, his face drenched in blood and sweat. "Stop!" I cried out. But I knew it was no use. I knew what I had to do. "You will burn in Hell, Hadrian Blair!" I stormed from the room, wiping Killian's blood on my jeans. I quickly went to the next room and threw my clothes into a bag, along with my tools. Then I charged downstairs, grabbed my jacket and went out into the rain, slamming the door shut behind me. It was opened again by Sky.

"Hunter!" She yelled after me.

'_Get back and help Killian. Tell the bastard I have left. Make sure he stops.' _I told her through my mind as I got into my car, chucking my bag into the passenger seat. I revved the engine and swerved onto the street, rain already covering the vision. I sped down the road and once more headed for the highway, just as I had two years ago. I was running again.

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_So one may say that I am feeling somewhat downtrodden about things at the moment, so please, _please, _review_


	11. Chapter 11

_There! After a seven week break, two chapters in a row. And more coming!_

_Jelly Babes 101, once again I owe a chapter's life to you and your reviews. Thanks so much!_

_And also to KCtheWICCAN. Your threat was very inspiring._

_PLEASE REVIEW! It is nice to know that I'm not up at one in the morning, braving the aftershocks, for nothing._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

A month passed away swiftly. Mary K. started school as soon as the papers were in, a week after she'd arrived. Isaac's company raised a whole load of money for a nursery in Cambodia. And I did very little. Each morning I would wake up with a horrible headache, which would immediately cease when Isaac brought me a cup of tea. Then I would get up and make breakfast for everyone. Then I would kiss Isaac goodbye and they'd both leave – Mary K. biking and Isaac driving. Then I would clean the house or shop in Redkill. I was itching to go out and do something, but I was still settling into the whole idea of being married and living with Isaac; I didn't want to screw up the sanctuary I was in, even if it was a little tedious. And so I spent the day cleaning and cooking like a good old-fashioned housewife. And then when Mary K. came home we'd trawl over her homework or she'd drag me out and we'd go and see a movie in Redkill, although I was always worried about seeing Bree or Robbie there. Then I'd cook dinner and finally Isaac and I would go up to bed.

"_There have been several reports of bad flooding in the New York area, as it gets its longest period of rain in history..." _Mary K. and I were watching the news on a stormy Saturday night when I heard the front door open. I got up and went into the hall. Isaac was taking off his wet coat, thunder rumbled outside.

"Hey," I said, going up to him.

"Morgan," he acknowledged gruffly, hanging the coat on the stand. "How are you?"

"Fine," I said, unsurprised by his sharpness. He'd been getting increasingly irritable these past few days. I wondered if it was something with work...

"Right," he muttered, and went upstairs, his footsteps echoing in the cavernous hall. Lightning flashed up every darker corner of the hall.

"Jeez," whistled Mary K., coming out of the lounge. "He really is cranky at the moment."

"I know," I sighed, "and he doesn't exactly confide in me." God, that was true. We didn't talk a lot; he was usually at work, and when he was home, conversation was still sparse.

"Hmmm, I reckon that man is hiding something," Mary K. told me. I raised an eyebrow.

"A detective now, are you?" I grinned. "Come on, I have a lasagne to burn." We went back into the warm kitchen and I began the tedious task of cooking dinner. Cooking something different every night had become a bit of a challenge, and now I was experimenting. However, lasagne seemed to be pretty simple.

Mary K. sat herself down on one of the stools by the kitchen counter "Maybe he's having a secret affair with someone,' she suggested, waggling her eyebrows.

"M.K!" I exclaimed, swatting her with a tea towel, "he's my _husband!_"

"Yeah, well husbands cheat all the time!"

"Had a lot of experience with husbands and marriage, have you?" I asked her with a grin as I dumped a tray of mince into a frying pan. Another roll of thunder came through the walls.

"Well, it's not like you have either," she pointed out.

I nodded, "but I've had more than you. And Isaac's not the kind of guy."

"Yeah, admittedly I can't see him and his glum face turning up at a strip club."

"Maybe if he got drunk," I suggested.

"Can you even see him getting drunk?" Said Mary K. "There's a reason why that wine cellar's locked, you know."

"Gah, enough of insulting my husband," I said smiling, "come, make yourself useful and chop up some mushrooms."

She rolled her eyes theatrically and slid off the stool.

"I'll find out Isaac Cheldon's little secret someday," she said, getting a chopping board, "not all of those magazines with his face on the front are about business, you know. I bet I can get all the gossip."

"Sure, sure. I – " Suddenly we were plunged into darkness. Thunder rumbled outside.

"Ugh, freaking storm," Mary K. muttered into the black, "lightning must have hit a pole somewhere." I heard a click and the pale light of Mary K.'s new phone lit us both up an eerie white

"Right. You find some matches; I'll go check that Isaac's alright."

"'Kay," she said, and set up opening kitchen drawers. I felt my way into the porch and up the stairs, gripping the cold banister. Then I slid my hand along the wall, counting the doors along to Isaac's. I opened it up. Isaac sat at his laptop, which must have been running on batteries, as his face and the back wall and window were lit a pale white.

"Hey, you alright?" I asked, coming in.

"Yes," he said blankly, still typing in his laptop, "it's just a power cut, Morgan."

"I know, I was just checking..."

His dark eyes flickered to mine, "well thank you for your concern." He went back to typing.

I took a step into the room "Isaac...what's been going on?"

"Very little," he said, "why do you ask?"

"Because you've seemed kind of down lately," I had a sense that I was sailing on _very _dangerous waters.

"Does it seem that way to you Morgan?" He murmured.

"Is there a problem at work?" In the dim light it was hard to gauge his reaction.

"Did it ever occur to you that it might be _you _causing the problem?" His voice was dark.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

He sighed gruffly, "It doesn't matter."

"No really, I want to know," I said sincerely, "What am I do – " A shriek suddenly pierced the air. "Mary K.!" I yelled, bursting out of the office and manoeuvring down the stairs in the dark as fast as I could. Isaac was right behind me. I could see her phone light in the hall. She screamed again. "Mary K.!" I repeated, reaching her. In the phone light, I could see tears streaking down her cheeks. "What is it?" I tried to reach for her, she pulled away. She spotted something behind me and screamed again. It was Isaac.

"We have to get out of here!" She cried. It bounced off everything in the hall. "Morgan, we have to go!"

"MK. Why? Calm down." I tried to put a comforting hand on her shoulder again. She shook it off jumpily, and instead grabbed my wrist with a sweaty palm.

"We have to leave!" She screeched again, tugging on my wrist, "Now! He's-"

"Morgan!" Isaac's voice, suddenly loud and powerful behind me. "Let her go."

"What?" I asked.

"He's dangerous!" She shouted, pulling me to the door. "Come on!" She sobbed.

"Morgan, this is ridiculous! Let her leave" Isaac commanded.

"Mary K." I tried to be consoling, "come on, is it the storm?" I tried pulling her into a hug.

"Let go of me!" She shrieked, yanking herself away from me. With a last pleading, angry, flustered look, she threw open the door and ran out into the rain.

"Mary K.! Where are you going!" I yelled to her, but she was already consumed by the darkness. "Mary K.!" I tried to follow her, but Isaac's hand reached out and shut the door.

"Morgan," he said quietly, "she's gone." He put his hands on my shoulders. "She didn't want to be here, Morgan."

"But she did!" I told him. "Why wouldn't she? Oh God, Mary K..." I fumbled in the dark to the kitchen phone and punched in her number. There was nothing, of course. "Freaking power cut!" I yelled, throwing the phone to the ground. I ran back out into the hall, heading for the door.

"Morgan, calm down," Isaac blocked it. "You need to relax."

"My sister is out there right now! I want to follow her and you won't let me!" Suddenly the lights flicked back on. I tried looking out the door's window. She was probably at the main road by now. "Oh god, Mary K.!" I looked defiantly up at Isaac. "Let me out!"

"No, Morgan," his voice was calm, "she's already gone."

"Let me through!" He just shook his head. I pushed against him, but he was like rock. Wait, the power was back. I ran to the phone again. It was smashed on the ground. "Oh shit, freaking...ugh," a wave of nausea washed over me and I grasped my stomach. "Jesus..." and then I was running for the toilet.

I knelt, grasping the bowl as I threw my guts up. "Gawwwd," I groaned before another load came. After it all seemed to be out I slumped against the bathroom wall, feeling as pale and feeble as a corpse.

"Morgan?" Isaac knocked on the door.

"Mmmmm?" I returned in answer. He came in and looked at my current state.

"Do you think it's finished?" He asked mildly.

"Maybe?" I replied. He offered me a hand and pulled me up.

"Brush your teeth and get to bed," he told me.

"Mary K." I groaned as I felt another wave come through. I slid back down to the bowl and threw up again.

"I'll take care of it," he told me blankly, "come on." I managed to brush my teeth and get upstairs into bed.

Isaac tucked me in as if I were a child, and kissed me on my forehead. "I take back what I said earlier, Morgan." He told me, "None of my bad mood was due to you."

I would have let out a sigh of relief, but there was something too big worrying me, "do you promise you'll try and find Mary K.?"

"I'm going to call the police straight away, Morgan," he told me.

"What do you think got her like that?" I asked quietly.

"I don't know," he said. "Probably the power cut, like you said. Some people have fears of storms like that. It was quite unexpected."

"She seemed perfectly calm," I said, "she's getting good at hiding things, typical teenager." Says I, also a teenager.

"Don't worry about it, Morgan. You're ill, you need to relax and sleep."

"Right, Doctor Isaac," he gave a short – rare – smile and switched off the light.

"Goodnight, Morgan,"

"Night," I said back, as he shut the door, leaving me in the dark.

Hunter

The windscreens wipers pushed away the drops of rain from my vision of the road. I was past my rage now; I was past even logical thought. Now I was mourning. For I knew that Hadrian now had me in a tight, unrelenting grip. Morgan would never forgive me or herself for sacrificing Killian. She would never condone it. So I could not get anywhere near enough to save her. I could not get anywhere close enough to help her. And with each passing moment, Hadrian got closer to whatever he wanted out of Morgan. He said he wanted 'someone'. But I was left with the same list as I had before, though I could take myself out of the equation. If he had wanted me, he would have come to me as soon as he'd sensed me in Widow's Vale. And that just lead me to another problem; he'd sensed me because I'd scried for Morgan. His connection to her now would be strong; he would be able to feel my magick. So now I could not even scry for my Morgan without risking Killian.

My cell phone rang on the seat next to me. No doubt it was Sky or Bree again. I hadn't bothered to answer them up until this point, but I realised that I probably should, just to warn them against doing anything stupid. I pulled over into a lay-by. "Yes?" I sighed.

"What the _hell _do you think you're doing?" Sky's voice demanded immediately on the other end.

"Driving, Athar," I muttered bluntly.

"Killian was in the middle of a fit and you just left!"

"Yeah, that's why I left,"

"You better explain yourself, Giomanach, and pretty fast," she snapped.

"Tell me," I said, "after I left, did Killian calm down?"

"Yes," she admitted. "But that doesn't explain what's going on."

I sighed again, "look, I scried for an answer to saving Morgan and Hadrian sensed me. He entered my vision and told me that he had control over Killian and that I had to leave Morgan and Widow's Vale. My vision ended, and then Killian started having his fit."

"So you can't come back in?" Asked Sky.

"Not unless I risk Killian's life," I told her.

"Well, Morgan wouldn't forgive you for that," She sighed.

"Exactly," I said.

"So what are we going to do?"

"I just don't know..." I said tiredly.

"We can't give up," Sky said sharply.

"She doesn't even know I'm alive. She's happy. Hadrian hasn't done anything yet."

"_Yet._ Giomanach, you _know _that you are talking crap. We'll work something out."

"We can't beat him, Sky."

"Yes we can, Hunter! For the Goddess's sake! You are the heir of Gawain! You can beat him and you will."

"Not if I can't see him. And you keep on forgetting that he has _gained power_, Athar."

"We'll work it out."

"We might," I told her, and hung up. I started the car again.

And as I drove through the deep puddles on the road, a tear slid down my own cheek. I had failed my Morgan. I had failed and I didn't even have the solace of knowing that she knew I had failed her. She just thought I was dead.

My hand gripped the steering wheel. I had never felt such a pain in my chest. There was just nothing, nothingness.

A month passed. Every second of it was pain for me. I was at an impasse and there was no way of getting around it. The knowledge that my Morgan was still with Hadrian, still believing she was safe with him, that he was fine, hurt me so much. And I could still not save her.

I'd been staying in a flat in New York. It was far enough away for Hadrian not to be able to sense me, close enough...well, I realized, it didn't matter if I was any further away. I would never be close enough to save my Morgan. My flat was pretty basic, but I was lucky to get it – lucky that the council hadn't cancelled my credit card yet. I knew they had been trying to contact me, but I ignored their calls. I had thought about going back and doing my job as a seeker, but now I knew who Morgan was with, I just couldn't. Even if I could do nothing, I would stay.

I wandered through the wet streets, as I did every day, and thought back to when we'd come here to check out a cell of Amyranth, remembering Morgan's excitement at having four days pretty much to ourselves...and then I remembered saving her from Amyranth, and I remembered her discovery of her real father, Ciaran, and how she'd tried to cut herself off from me. Goddess, I had been stubborn in getting her back. I had known I would get her back, because I had known that she still loved me. Now it was too hard to reassure myself. Cut off from her for such a long time...what if she didn't love me? What if she couldn't forgive me? _It doesn't make any difference, Niall, she's never going to have to forgive you, she's never going to know you were even here. _My damned seeker voice. And it was right. She wouldn't.

I headed for Central Park, which, despite being very muddy, was nicer than walking along the busy, crowded streets. I wasn't a city guy. Thrusting my hands deep into my pockets to keep them warm, I trudged through the park, breathing in the cold air. I had searched for a solution at first; some sort of concealment spell which would ensure than Hadrian didn't sense me, but I couldn't find one, and I gave up. Hadrian was unstoppable.

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_PLEASE REVIEW! Reviews are my brain food :D_


	12. Chapter 12

_Hello! Third chapter in a row! Woohoo! I'm feeling far too happy! It must be the tea..._

_Very quickly: PLEASE VOTE in the poll on my profile. _

_It's with regards to whether I should write a sequel or not, so if you've followed the story up to this point (Chapter 12 eeeee!) then I would very much like to hear your opinion!_

_:D Right, ENJOY!_

_And review! I'll need major inspiration if I'm going to write another chapter tomorrow (after tomorrow I won't be free - alas!)_

_Oh and thanks _again _Jelly Babes :D All will be revealed soonishly!_

* * *

The next day, Sunday, I woke late, the morning light that used to wake me up was now shrouded by skyscrapers, pollution and, of course, big black storm clouds. I was sleeping on a cheap bed, and my back felt rather stiff. I groaned, stretching. Wait...was that coffee I smelled?

"Morning Giomanach," a voice chimed. My head snapped to the side. Sky stood in the kitchen, or rather the corner of the room with a stove and fridge, pouring coffee into two mugs.

"What are you doing here?" I mumbled, grabbing some jeans from the floor and slipping them on under the covers.

"Getting you out of your little depression fest." She told me, handing me a mug.

"Cheers," I said, standing up and walking to the window, gazing out at the concrete wall just a few yards away from me. "For the coffee," I added, "I'm not in a depression fest."

"Then why are you living in this horrible little apartment in the middle of New York City?" I allowed a slight smile. She knew me too well. "You've given up." She stated.

"What else can I do?" I muttered.

"You can try searching for an answer!" She said. I spun around.

"Do you think I haven't?" I said through gritted teeth. "There is no way of getting into Widow's Vale without Hadrian finding out and killing Killian."

"How do you even know he can monitor your comings and goings?"

"There's a barrier around Widow's Vale, Athar, specifically to detect me. I can feel it right now. It beams out, searching for my essence."

"How did Hadrian get a hold of your essence?" It was a valid question; to create a barrier specifically against someone you had to have something of theirs. It was sort of like a sniffer dog, in a way...

"I drove away whilst he was still at my house. I took his ring, which we destroyed, and he probably took something from the house."

"There must be a way to destroy the barrier..." Sky began.

"There isn't. I told you, I've tried to find a way, but there isn't. He's too powerful. The only way to destroy it would be to equal the power of the spell from the _inside._" My cousin slumped down onto one of the tattered chairs. It seemed she was finally seeing my point. She stayed like that a moment, staring dolefully at the bare floorboards. Then she went to study my face.

"'Hunter..." she started tentatively, thought on her face, "will you really let Morgan be with this man for the rest of your life?" She asked me with such sincerity. I just stared at her, but my mind went elsewhere. I couldn't condone it. If I could have accepted it then I would have left New York and gone back to England to be with my Da and my family. But I couldn't see myself doing that. My mind was solely focussed on the little town of Widow's Vale. England, Europe, the rest of the world, they did not exist; they did not enter my mind. And the only person I truly thought about was Morgan. Every day, every thought was of her in some way.

"I can't," my voice cracked. "I can't leave her."

Morgan

I woke, as usual, to the rain pattering on the windows. Dull light came through the white lace curtains. Glancing at the clock I realized it was almost midday. Suddenly I shot up. "Mary K.!" God, was she okay? Had Isaac found her? I ran a hand through my hair. And then the swirling in my stomach came, and I was running for the bathroom.

My experimental cooking was now taking its toll on me. God what if Mary K. was ill as well? Why had she run away? She was only looking for matches. After I'd thrown my guts up _again, _I stood up shakily from the toilet seat. I seemed to feel okay, so I slid a dressing gown on and went downstairs. In the kitchen, the pieces of the phone I'd thrown still lay on the floor. Isaac had left a note for me on the counter.

_Morgan,_

_I have gone in to work for a while._

_You seemed to be too ill to go to church this morning, just stay home and relax._

_Isaac._

It didn't say anything about Mary K...I went and got a phone from the pool room and dialled her number. There was no answer. I huffed, but remembered not to throw the phone to the ground this time. I went back to the kitchen and decided I might be able to eat something. Times like these called for pop tarts. I rummaged around in the cupboards till I found a packet and then put them in the toaster. But just the smell made me feel queasy. I took them out and took a tiny nibble off the end before groaning. They were definitely not helping. After one more try, I chucked them in the bin and curled up in front of the TV to watch bad Sunday drama.

And it was _really _bad. Soon, I fell asleep, clutching a cushion as my blanket.

I woke a few hours later. I got up and stretched, looking out the rain-blurred window. It was evening - the last of the weak rays of sun were disappearing behind the trees to be replaced by a dark, stormy night. Isaac would be home soon, and I wasn't even out of my pyjamas. I yawned again and traipsed into the hall, which probably needed cleaning again, and then up the stairs.

My stomach had stopped swirling, but I still felt tired and drowsy. In my bedroom, I flicked the heater on and shut the curtains, blocking out the rain. Then I pulled on a pair of jeans, a t-shirt and a cardigan. I glanced around the room. I wasn't a very good housewife, it was clear. My clothes were hanging out of the drawers and the dressing table really needed a dust. But I couldn't be bothered tonight, and settled on just making the bed.

I fished some clean sheets from a cupboard across the corridor and attempted to put a new duvet cover on. Well, clearly I wasn't cut out for that. Putting it on without scrunching up the comforter inside proved harder than it looked. I ended up crawling inside and putting the corners in myself. I was fumbling around trying to get out when my hand smacked against the bedpost.

"_Shit!" _I cursed loudly, finally getting my head out. I cradled my hand, but it wasn't too bad. The pain faded quickly. But then I realised that my wedding ring had come off. "Crap," I muttered again, getting down on my hands and knees to look for it. It had always been a bit too big for my finger, seeing as Isaac had bought it at the last minute. Its shiny gold surface wasn't anywhere to be seen. _It must be behind the headboard, _I decided. I got up and tried pulling the bed away. In my rather feeble state, it took a while to get it out of the grooves of the carpet, but then it groaned and rolled away a little. I spotted my ring, mixed with all the dust...but then I saw something else.

There, roughly etched into the wall, was a great black pentacle.

Hunter

Sky and I wondered through the city streets in the rain. I had to admit, I was glad to have her company. I hadn't talked to another witch in over a month now, in fact, I had hardly talked to _anyone_. Though, Sky and I didn't talk much. Both our minds were just going around in circles, neither of us finding a solution to getting into Widow's Vale. When it reached three, we stopped at a coffee shop and bought two large teas to take away. But even tea didn't help.

"How's Killian?" I asked my cousin as we walked along Times Square.

Sky frowned, as if remembering something, "I think he's getting worse. He's more feverish...he's certainly not coherent anymore."

"Nothing at all?" I asked.

Sky shook her head, "nothing. And we've been having a hard time getting him to eat anything. Could Hadrian be doing it?"

"I wouldn't put it past him to taunt as like this," I said, "but it could just be purely physical."

"Well, whatever it is, he's going to die unless you get Morgan to heal it."

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. "Poor lad. Do you think he can feel it?"

"By the sounds he makes? Goddess yes," she looked off distantly, "I always thought he was an idiot, but I never wished this upon him. He's a good guy."

"I know," I said. This just reinforced the need to _do _something, and we returned to silence, walking glumly through the packed streets once more.

Morgan

What was a pentacle doing in my room? And, as I looked again, why was it upside down? I ran my hand over it. My fingers prickled. Whether I tried or not, I could sense the magick. Magick...the word I had not dared to think for so long. A chill ran up my spine. Why was there magick in this house? Why was there an upside down pentacle, a sign of serious evil, under my bed? The darkness of the pentacle called to me. My hand drifted over it again. I felt my magick stir within me. No! I would not allow it. But I couldn't let this pass. I heard the front door shut. Momentarily distracted, my magick suddenly leapt out. The room transformed.

All over the walls, runes emerged, all glowing a dark, blood red.

"Oh my god," I whispered.

"Morgan!" I heard Isaac call from downstairs. My heart thudded, my breath caught. What was all this? I reached out to touch a rune next to me. My fingers only brushed it, but it sent a jolt of pain up me. I gasped. Oh God, oh God. What could this be? Did...did Isaac know? Spikes of fear slowly coiled around me...what was happening? Dark runes, dark runes everywhere. I thought magick was gone...but it had never left.

"Morgan?" He was still in the hall. I stood up shakily, turning slowly around the room. The largest rune was drawn magickally on the headboard. Feoh. Power. Who had done this? Sweet God... "Morgan?" I heard him coming up the stairs. Instinctively I backed to the window, slipping my fingers under the latch, pushing it up. The door opened. Isaac stood, outlined in a dark red and black glow. He took a single glance at the room, then dark, glaring eyes turned to mine. I shook. "Morgan." Suddenly he was striding towards me.

I screamed and threw open the window. Thunder and lightning cracked outside. The rain was turning to hail. Hurriedly, I pulled one leg over and then the other. Oh God, oh God. "Don't you _dare!" _I felt him grab my wrist. I yanked it away, but he had a strong grip.

"Ah!" I shouted. He pulled me back. I tried spitting in his dark face, now I was hanging half out the window. "You bastard!" Suddenly, my hand flung out, shooting a ball of electric white light at him. It hit him, and he was thrown backwards, letting go of my wrist. But suddenly I was falling as well. I landed on something hard with a thud. It was the iron roof to the lounge extension. Pain was everywhere. Looking up, Isaac was looking out of the window. I screamed again, my mind made a brief connection with outside lounge and grass, then I rolled myself off the roof.

It was by sheer fear that I was able to get up off the soaking grass, every part of my body screaming in pain, and run. I sensed magick being thrown at me. Instinctively, I deflected it, my magick now brimming in me. Oh goddess, oh goddess. I dashed out of the garden gate. The rain obscured my vision. I charged through the field, mud splashing up my legs. I could hardly see the woods, all I knew was that they were there, and they would give me some safety.

My magick began to take charge of me. Mage sight began. I could see outlines of violently thrashing trees. I sprinted to them. But I didn't stop. I ran through the woods, my bare feet getting cut on twigs, my cardigan getting pulled by trees. Fear instilled me to run faster than I ever had before. Thunder rumbled over head, though I hardly heard it through my own shallow gasps.

Finally my foot hit a large root and I was flung to the forest floor. My head thudded on the wet earth. Everything ached. Didn't move, I just lay, weeping and gasping. Was he going to kill me? What had just happened? Why did Isaac have magick? Oh God, what the hell was happening? I curled up, clutching my knees, sobs ripping through my throat. What was happening to me? For I felt it now, something waking up inside of me. It was more than my magick...it was another part of me, one which had been very quiet till now.

_A circle, draw a circle, _something within me said. A circle. A circle? No, I didn't practise magick anymore. I had only used it before because it made me. Magick was in the past. And yet...it was my birthright...it was my blood...it was me. _Draw a circle! Be who you were meant to be. _I had been lying to myself. I couldn't deny such a large part of myself. "A circle," I whispered. Slowly, I stood, gradually pulling myself up, until I stood strong against the wind and rain. A circle I would draw. It did not take long to find a clearing, many saplings had fallen over in the storms we had been having. They were nothing like this one, though.

I took a stick from the ground and carved a perfect circle through the mud. It would not be a proper circle – I had no salt or elements, but I felt that what I was about to do would be strong enough. The rain lashed at me as I stood in my circle. The wind rushed around me. Thunder growled. I slowly closed my eyes. My arms rose outwards, and turned face to sky. "Goddess I ask you be with me on this night," I spoke.

My voice felt hoarse, yet it sounded clear and powerful. Slowly, I began walking deasil around the circle. The wind thrashed the trees around, the rain turned earth to mud, but in my circle all was calm...perfect _"Magick is perfection," _a memory told me. I began to chant. The words came to my lips without a thought from my mind. Hesitantly, I began.

"_I, the bearer of the fire,_

_Did disavow its flame_

_Did refuse its offering,_

_Did so with no shame,"_

"_Forgive me what I did deny_

_For far too long a time_

_Pardon me, oh Goddess great,_

_For my wrong and dreaded crime"_

Suddenly, I felt as if she had, as if something had been lifted...I quickly returned to my chant, now with more confidence.

"_This night of blindness go, be gone!_

_Let daylight break me now!_

_Let me sing my mother's song!_

_Let me take back what was once endowed!"_

My breathing was heavy, the wind pushed against me. I welcomed it.

"On this night!" I shouted to the sky, "Give me back what is mine!"

All of a sudden, I was thrown to my knees. My lungs were being pressed, my chest squeezed, like forces were pushing at me from all directions, suffocating me. Fear ran through me like wildfire. What had I done? What was this? I needed to breathe, I had no air...I was going to...

As suddenly as it started, it stopped. I slumped to the ground, gasping for well needed air. Bright, sparkly light spun around my vision for a minute, and I groaned. _"Morgan," _a voice whispered to me from somewhere, _"the test is over, my daughter." _I snapped my head up. That was my mother's voice!

"_It is over." _Another voice repeated. It was Mackenna Riordan, my grandmother. I had heard them both before, a very long time ago. And now I heard them again, their Irish accents crystal clear, and they were telling me that the test was over... did that mean that my magick was back at full strength? I stood quickly, a sudden excitement taking over. I concentrated fixedly on the pit of my stomach, imagining bringing my magick all through me, letting it beam out around me.

Then slowly, a chant came to me;

"_An di allaigh an di aigh_

_An di allaigh an di ne ullah"_

Something began to rise in me...

"_An di ullah be nith rah_

_Cair di na ulla nith rah!"_

It became lighter, larger...

"_Cair feal ti theo nith rah_

Pressing against the boundaries of my mind, wanting to get out...

_AN DI ALLAIGH AN DI AI!"_

My hands flew skyward, and out of them, a great column of pure white magick shot up into the sky, higher and higher, past the rain and the storm clouds. And magick flew within me as well, rushing freely through my blood and bones, merging with me once more. The column kept going and going, still growing from my hands. My heart soared. Suddenly I felt more alive than anything, ever. Tears came to my eyes, and I laughed, smiling and crying because I had not witnessed such beauty in almost two years.

Hunter

By the time Sky and I were nearing my apartment, it was dark and wet. Even the flashing neon lights seemed grimmer than they ought to have been. We trudged along with our hands in our pockets, heads down as we fought against the wind. When we reached my door, Sky finally said, "tomorrow we'll go to that club we went to last time – see if there's anyone who might have more knowledge in this sort of thing."

"Right," I said, but we both knew that no one would know how to solve the problem. I fished my key out of my pocket and unlocked the door. I let Sky in first and was about to walk in myself when I felt a huge jolt of energy ran up my body. I stumbled, gripping the doorframe. Suddenly my breathing was fast, like a load had just been lifted off me.

"Giomanach?" Sky turned round in concern. I let my breathes settle, and then looked at my cousin.

"Sky..." I said, curiosity and confusion creeping into my voice, "something's changed."

Morgan

My euphoria was short lived, though. For as I came down from the joy of reuniting with my magick, I remembered Isaac. I ended the circle, giving thanks to the Goddess, and stepped out. Somehow the rain didn't fall as hard as it had before hand. With my magick back, I knew that now was the time to get answers.

With a new, burning confidence, I headed back to Isaac Cheldon's house, with the thought that I was prepared for whatever he could possibly say or do.

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_Reviews are my brain food :D _


	13. Chapter 13

_OH MY GIDDY AUNT! _

_I was searching for dead eagle photos (as one does) and I came across the cutest picture of baby eagles! Eeeee!_

_...yeah, I have problems._

_Thanks to Edwards Meteor and Jelly Babes 101 for the reviews! Lots of cuddly baby eagles to you both!_

_Anyway, please review and please vote on whether to have a sequel (the poll is at the top of my profile page :D)_

_Enjoy!_

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"What do you mean?" Sky asked me in frustration as I quickly grabbed my phone and athame.

"I felt the barrier lift," I told her, chucking some t-shirts back into my bag, "it's time. Come on," I told her, opening the door to a freezing cold night.

"How does that work?" Sky demanded, having to jog to keep up with me as I made my way down the street to the public garage where I kept my car.

"I don't know," I said, hurrying into the garage.

"What if it's a trap?"

"It won't be, I'd feel that as well," I told her, taking the fire stairs to level three two at a time. We reached my car and got in. As soon as Sky had shut her door I pulled out. "I don't know how long we have," I told her, driving down the corkscrew as fast as I could. "It might just be temporary."

"And what if he wants you to come?"

"Then I'm coming. I have more of a chance than I did before. I have to act," I turned out onto the road. Being around the evening, the traffic was terrible. I slammed my fist against the wheel as we sat in a traffic jam, huffing. "I have to get there! Now!"

"Giomanach," my cousin said sternly, "calm yourself, you gain us nothing by being out of control. This gives you time to think, Hunter. Use it!"

"Wait," I said, as the cars began to move forward again. Seeing the other lane was almost empty, I turned into it, now driving on the wrong side of the road, but it didn't matter. I sped up, going well over the speed limit. I had to get to the motorway.

"Hunter!" Sky exclaimed, horrified. I ran through red lights, occasionally casting freezing spells so we didn't get mulched. "Hunter! You can't do this, someone will see!"

"Really don't care," I muttered as we reached the outskirts. Finally - the motorway. I heavily accelerated, zooming up the ramp and then the middle of the road.

"You won't be saving Morgan if we're wrapped around a tree!"

"I won't be saving Morgan if he has time to put the barriers up again!"

"Just slow down!"

I sped up. Sky yelled at me for at least ten minutes before she gave up and finally got out her phone and rang Bree. I heard the tail end of the conversation. "Bree, Hunter's coming back...he says the barriers have broken...how's Killian?...oh Goddess...right, we will, bye."

"What is it?" I asked looking at her.

"Eyes on the road, Giomanach!" Sky shouted at me.

"Sorry! Now what did she say?"

"Killian's getting worse...he wants to see you."

"Right _now?" _I exclaimed.

"Bree says he's really bad," Sky said.

"Does this mean the barrier's not broken?"

"I don't think so. He's been getting worse, regardless of whether you're near or not."

"So we stop at Bree's house? That will take up a lot of time."

"He might want to tell you something of use. Don't deny a dying man, Giomanach."

"Fine, we'll go, but we're speeding up," I told her as I hit the pedal, taking us _well _above the limit.

We passed the halfway point between New York and Widow's Vale in about half an hour. I might just make it...my heart thrummed in my chest. This was it, I was going to save my Morgan, tell her the truth...and I was going to kill Hadrian.

Morgan

I had run further than I thought. I was deep in the forest, but I knew I was set in right direction, so I kept going, my clothes soaked through with rain, my feet stinging and sore. Next time I decided to run away from a witch who was hurling dark magick at me, I'd remember to bring shoes. All the while I walked, questions plagued my mind. Who was Isaac? Why had he married me? Why had he said he was a Catholic? I remembered back to the wedding reception, when he'd threatened me...

_He grabbed my wrists and slammed me back against the wall "Then why the hell did you choose me!" I seethed and my hand uncurled itself and shot flaming white power at him. It dissolved into the air between us. I gasped in horror. What had just happened...and what hadn't? Isaac licked his lips and smirked at me._

"_You see," he almost laughed, "I have God's power on my side,"_

Now, I realized that he almost certainly _didn't _have God's power on his side. He must have dissipated my magick with his own...that would take quite a bit of power...and then he'd concealed his magick from me. For the entire time I'd known him, I had never once thought that he could be a witch...why hadn't I sensed him? Yes, I had renounced my magick, but I still sensed things, even though I didn't want to.

To conceal himself all the time, day and night...he would have expended a lot of energy...but then...maybe I had sensed him...the headaches I seemed to get almost every morning...could they have been my senses trying to tell me that there was magick around? And then Isaac had brought me that tea and it would just go away. Goddess, what was going on? And again, why had he _married _me? That I couldn't even fathom. And what about telling me not to use my magick? _What did he want with me? _

I kept walking. After a while, I decided to give my mage sight a break, and I held my hand out in front of me. _Fire, _I thought, _come to me. _Suddenly, a single, perfect flame floated just above my palm, lighting the way. I smiled; it seemed beautiful to me.

But then the trees began to thin, and suddenly my nerves began to wake. I had no idea of what I was about to face...I knew I was ill prepared, and without any knowledge of what faced me in the house...I was scared. Glancing at my little flame again, I walked out of the trees. The house stood there, large and oppressive. Now I could feel it strongly now, the magick emanating from it. It was impossible to miss. My head throbbed, but I told myself that I knew of it now, and for the pain to leave me. I walked through the field. None of the lights were on, but I could feel a presence, and I knew it was Isaac's. I walked back through the garden gate, noticing the spot of muddied grass where I'd fallen. The lounge door was open. I took a deep breath, nerves spinning in me, and stepped into the house.

It was just as I'd left it, except it felt nothing like a home anymore...it felt like a dangerous place to avoid at all costs. All my inner alarm bells were going off. I tentatively let my senses stretch out around the house. A distinct, dark force came from a particular spot. The wine cellar. The one place in the entire house I hadn't been in. The magick radiating from it was as clear as a bell now.

I made my way to the kitchen, taking another deep, shaky breath. Then I opened the larder door.

The trapdoor lay wide open, and firelight travelled up the steps, showing the way. I couldn't just leave this. I had to confront him, because I understood nothing, because he could be dangerous. "Goddess, be with me," I whispered, and slowly began to make my way down the cold stone steps.

Hunter

Turning into Widow's Vale, my nerves stirred in the pit of my belly. I didn't slow down as I drove past the shops, causing some rather angry cries from pedestrians. Goddess, if they knew the half of what was happening right under their turned up noses...

We reached Bree's street just an hour and ten minutes after we'd left New York. Sky and I got out into the lashing rain. I left the car idling. "We have got to make this quick," I told my cousin. We walked up to the doorstep and knocked. It opened straight away. Bree stood there, nervousness clear on her face.

"What's happening?" She asked quietly.

"Sky will explain, I have to be quick," I said, and went past her. I sensed people in the lounge, but I didn't think of them. I had to see Killian and then I had to get out. I ran up the stairs and into the room that I'd run from a month ago. Killian lay on the same bed, in the same, tense, shaky, position. But one thing had changed; he was looking directly at me.

"Killian," I quickly crossed the room and knelt by his side, grasping his pale hand.

"Hunter," his voice was cracked and weak, "take care of Morgan," his eyes stared into mine with such intensity, "tell her I tried, and that I'm sorry for being such an idiot, and that I loved her as much as I could."

"I will," I said softly, "I will."

"She was always so strong. Make her strong again...love her," his grip tightened on my hand, "Hunter, my brother, love her." He gasped, his entire chest lifting, and began coughing blood again. I tried sending calming energy through him. He relaxed a little again, but the pain was in his eyes. A rumble of thunder came through the wall. Rain thrashed against the windows. Killian looked at me "I don't have long, Hunter. The rain has come, the board is set. You need to go..." his eyelids fluttered, "and so do I."

I knelt by him, watching as unconsciousness took him. He was right...he had just hours, I knew. Goddess, Killian...ever since I had met him in New York I'd thought him a nuisance. But I had always known that he loved Morgan, that he was as loyal to her as any brother could be. An honourable, worthy man.

Sky knocked on the open door. "Hunter," she said softly, "it's time to go." She went back downstairs

"I know," I said. But I watched Killian's laboured breathing as he slept, and swept a tear away from my cheek. I took my hand from his grip. "My brother," I whispered. I slowly stood. It was true, he was my brother, if not in blood then in soul, for we both held the same thing close to us. "Goddess protect," I said quietly, and then went downstairs. At the front door, Alyce handed Sky and I both an athame.

"Courtesy of Practical Magick," she said, "I wish I could come, but I know nothing of attack magick, I would only be a nuisance." I nodded. She pulled me into a hug, and murmured "Goddess be with you."

Then Bree appeared, leaning against the wall. "I don't suppose you'll let me come?"

"No, Bree, not this time," I said.

She shrugged, to my surprise, "so long as you get Morgan back. Be safe." Lastly, I glanced at Sky.

"Hah! Giomanach, don't even think it! I'm coming." I grinned and shook my head. We walked outside. It was dark, the rain was the heaviest it had been, the wind was so powerful.

I could feel it; it was time.

Morgan

I walked down. I felt darkness here, I felt it in multitude. It was almost enough to bring me to my knees. I reached the bottom of the steps. They opened into a large rectangular room. At one end there was a grand stone fireplace. The fire in it called to me, even as it threw glowing orange light over the stone floor. Above it, etched into the stone, was another upside down pentacle. The stone floor was engraved with dark runes. Chalk lines blurred them in some areas, memories of previous circles. But then, at the other end of the room was a great stone alter, carved with Celtic designs and dark words. But what was above it was what shook me.

A great, black eagle hung, its wings pinned to the ceiling. Its eyes were still open, staring grotesquely out. Its blood stained the top of the altar. It still dripped from the slit in its throat.

And in front of the horrible scene stood Isaac Cheldon.

He watched at me as I took in the sight, and then him. He was shirtless, just wearing a pair of black track pants. An upside down pentacle was tattooed on his belly – he must have concealed that before... Dark shadows lay under his eyes; his skin seemed grey, almost dead. The purple scar across his cheek was vivid in comparison.

I finally met his black eyes.

"Your sister broke in here last night," his voice echoed across the room, sinister, dark. "She saw my sacrifice," he gestured behind him, "and was somewhat...unnerved."

Oh Goddess, Mary K.! Anger brewed within me, mixing with my fear. "Who are you?" I demanded shakily.

His eyes lit, like smouldering coal, "my name is Hadrian."

The room was silent, save the crackling of the fire. That name...it stirred fear in my belly. I could feel my hand shaking.

I tried to convince myself that this fear was irrational, but I knew it wasn't. I tried to be calm, though "And you chose to be Isaac Cheldon because?"

He gave me a horrible smile. "Because in the real Wiccan world, which you were hardly exposed to, my name is too well known."

"Why?" I asked shakily.

"Because," he began to walk towards me, "I strip witches powers." My chest froze, fear overflowing within me. I backed away, even at the same time as I said, "you'll never get mine,"

He let out a laugh, still advancing on me, "I don't want yours...not yet." My heart was beating faster in faster. Every part of me was telling me to run...but he was now blocking the stairs as he continued to push me back to the fireplace. "There's still something else I want from you," wait...the fireplace...I could now feel its burning heat on my back.

_Fire, come to me, _I commanded. I felt the connection between me and the flames. Isaac – Hadrian was coming closer...

"Well," I felt it creep to my arms, "you're not getting it!" I flung the fire at him, like a huge wave, it rushed at him. He swiftly waved his hand. It disappeared. My resolve shattered. Isaac, eyes burning with fury, suddenly walked forward and grabbed my hair, shoving my head almost into the fireplace. I could feel the flames dangerously close to my cheek.

"Don't try and toy with me, girl!" He roared. "Your damned fire will kill you before it protects you!"

With my last shred of sense, I kicked him as hard as I could in the shin. He stumbled, and I slipped out of his grip. The stairs, I had to get to them. I ran. "Don't you _dare!" _He seethed, and threw black power at me. I stumbled and fell to the ground. My wrist smacked against the stone. I gasped, rolling onto my back, tears coming to my eyes, I wasn't going to get out of here, I was going to die here, oh Goddess!

Isaac stood over me. His voice was quiet, terrifying now, "you will follow me willingly, Morgan Riordan. I will not tolerate your disobedience."

"You sick bastard!" I growled back.

"_Péine!" _He cried. A wave of exquisite pain rippled through my body. I screamed, my chest lifting off the ground, gasping for breath. "Do not defy me!" Another bolt sent my body spinning onto my stomach "Do not challenge me!" My entire body rose a few inches as if on spikes and then dropped. I was going to die, I was going to die, oh goddess, oh goddess. "Submit to my will or I will make it so!" Blood rose from my chest and up into my throat. I gagged, spitting it to the ground. Oh Goddess... "There is nothing you can do, Morg – " Suddenly, Isaac was flying back across the room.

"NOT WITH MY GIRL!" A voice roared. My head snapped to the right.

The walls, the roof, the very world fell away, as I looked into a pair of deep green eyes.

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_Review, make me a happy ginga! Oh yes, I'm a ginga. REVIEW!_


	14. Chapter 14

Hello...

So, it's been a while...well, a month and a half.

I stopped writing at such a crucial moment in the story because of writer's block.

And then I begun my first Twilight fanfic; Clair de Lune. I completed it last September and I've just begun a sequel.

Anyways, today I picked up Strife whilst making a pot of tea (hehe) and then I just decided to finish this thing!

And so I got up the chapter I'd written under writer's block, tweaked it and finished it and voilà!

Of course, this isn't the end. There are a few more things to be tied up. Hopefully I can post the final chapter tomorrow.

**Thank you to all who reviewed! Wouldn't have come back to this without you!**

**So, here it is...**

**Enjoy!**

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Hunter..._Hunter..._

My breath caught, wanting to say that name out loud, but too afraid...for there he stood. Hunter. With the familiar corn silk hair, and strong jaw, and tall stature and green eyes...those green eyes which now bore into my own.

And then he was running toward me, kneeling down by my side.

"Morgan," he whispered, stroking my bloodied, scratched face. His voice...his voice!

Tears welled in my eyes. No...this couldn't possibly be...this wasn't real...

My hand, shaking, reached up, touching his stubbled cheek. "Are you..." I breathed, "You're real...you're here..." I smiled, here in the middle of hell.

And he smiled back, his callused fingers covering my own.

My lips trembled, feeling the heat of his touch. We stared into each other's eyes, revelling in the connection which I had not felt for so long...

"So the great hero returns," a voice growled. Suddenly, Hunter snapped out of my gaze and stood again. His eyes were on Isaac's...and they were burning with fierce anger. Isaac stood at the other end of the room. His black eyes cold and dark. Quickly I scrambled up, every movement sending pain through me. But I would not be seen as weak, not by either of these men.

"Hadrian," Hunter acknowledged darkly, "it's nice to see you in person."

Isaac - or Hadrian, I remembered – smirked briefly, "Last time I saw you, you were fleeing from me in fear."

Hunter's gaze narrowed, "and the last I saw of you there was a gaping slash in the side of your face."

Wait...wasn't that... "My scar, Morgan?" Isaac's voice suddenly jumped in, seeing the thought on my face. He turned his smirk to me, "yes, the only hit Hunter has ever made against me."

"You wish," said Hunter through gritted teeth.

"What is going on?" I demanded. "How do you know each other?"

Isaac glared at me, as if blaming me for my lack of understanding, "two years ago, your pathetic Hunter Niall acquired something which I had wanted," his eyes flashed to a point on Hunter's chest, he stared at it almost feverishly, and whispered, "something which I still want..." he continued to stare. I glanced at Hunter. He looked back grimly at me. Then Isaac's eyes were back on me, "I came, and he ran, thinking he could evade me."

"That's not the truth," Hunter snapped. Isaac turned to him.

"Hurrying to your car in the middle of the night with your belongings and driving far away without an explanation is running, Niall," he said blankly, then continued. "I stayed in Widow's Vale, searching for something that I may use to bargain with. I listened to your small town American gossip and, of course, that was when I found you, Morgan Rowlands."

"But you didn't use her for bait," said Hunter, staring at Hadrian, trying to decipher his tale. The talk of using me as bait sent a chill up my spine. I had never known, never even guessed. All I had known was that Hunter was gone.

Isaac didn't acknowledge his input, just carried on staring at me, "initially you were the perfect tool...but then I discovered the amount of power you had, and I saw you in another one of my..." he searched for the right word "...projects. I knew that what I wanted to achieve would take time, and temporary trust from you, so I wove myself into your life. Made up Isaac Cheldon, built him into the Afton's enterprise, bought this house," A deadly smile snaked across his face. "Killed your father."

My magick reared, "YOU BASTARD!" I yelled, hurling potent, strong magick at him. He flicked it off with his hand, deflecting it to the ground. ""You sick, horrible – "

I felt Hunter's hand on my arm, "Not yet, Morgan," he spoke softly, "the time will come."

Isaac smirked, "if you are foolish enough to try."

"I will," I spat, "you fucking monster." Hunter's grip tightened. I shook it off, but stayed silent.

"I killed your father," Isaac continued, smiling as I stared at him in deranged anger, "and then I spelled Afton into marrying your mother. It's easy when you've been exposed to as much magick as I have. Minds are relatively simple," he muttered, "and then I met you. Boring, plain Morgan Rowlands. Supposedly the sguirs dan of the Woodbanes, but totally ignorant and rather pathetic. Although, it was more useful when you were as sedate as you were. The use of your magick was something I was prepared for, but for you not to use it made it easier...magick as strong as yours just calls for me to take it..." he studied me up and down, "the time will come," he said softly, "but not yet."

"It never will come," growled Hunter beside me. Instinctively, my chest warmed. He was here...he was here.

"Then I married you," Isaac continued, ignoring Hunter, "acting as the faithful Catholic, because I at least expected you to have suspicions about other witches. You warmed to me quickly, and then," another smirk spread across his face, "you gave yourself to me." I felt Hunter stiffen. Isaac glanced at him, "oh yes, Niall, does that hurt?"

"Go to Hell," Hunter snarled. I felt a tear rise to my eye. I had given myself to this horrible man...the same man that had _killed my father, _I had trusted him...sweet Goddess! How could I have been so thick? So stupid? I cringed with the sickness of it all.

Isaac was looking at me again. I could hardly look back, the anger and shame and horror I felt toward him. But he began walking slowly towards me. "And you kept coming to my bed for over a month. You believed my scam. You even thought you _loved _me." He laughed at the last two words.

"I did _not!"_ I shouted, horrified now at the thought. "I could never delude myself so much!"

"Ah but you did," he said quietly, stopping but a few feet away from me. "You thought me, you and your sister to be a perfect family."

"Mary K.?" Hunter asked.

"She was sent to St. Mary's after he," I glared in disgust at Isaac, "killed my father. She came here last month. And then last night she ran away after seeing that." Gestured to the dead eagle at the other end of the room.

"Where is she?" Hunter asked in concern.

"I ensured she wouldn't tell anyone," said Isaac.

"Where _is she?" _Hunter demanded.

Isaac simply smirked, "somewhere off the road. She has a binding spell on her, no one will find her."'

"We'll save her," Hunter said stiffly

Isaac barked a laugh, "I doubt it. You certainly didn't save that girl."

"Girl?" I demanded, looking to Hunter.

He turned around, pain in his eyes, "Alisa. Her powers were stripped."

"What?" I gasped. How fucking dare...Goddess, what the hell was going on? I turned back to Isaac, "by you?"

"Of course," he said blankly.

Anger alighted. "You fucking bastard!" Suddenly, my fire was tearing through the air at him.

His hand shot out, _"Stad!" _He cried. My fire dissolved, as it had before. His dark eyes now blazed. "Learn my lesson, you ignorant girl!" He growled. "You have no _idea _of what I am capable of."

Inside, the last of my resolve crumbled, but I muttered out, "That's a bit rich." Isaac took a step towards me.

"Morgan," Hunter's voice came in a warning. Isaac just smiled slyly.

"Yes, Niall," Isaac drawled, "tell her, tell her what I do."

I huffed impatiently, "I _know _what you do, you bastard, you strip witch's powers!"

Isaac raised an eyebrow. Hunter glanced at me, his face worried. He spoke softly, "he does...and then he uses them as his own."

"What?" I exclaimed. "That's not possible."

"That's why he's so powerful," Hunter continued, "he has over fifty separate powers in him."

"About eighty, Niall," Isaac muttered, "your council only gets the table scraps of what I do. Particularly over the past two years." He licked his lips quickly, "You could almost hold yourself responsible for the extra thirty."

"Those you took out of fear of me," Hunter sneered.

Isaac shrugged, "it would have added up over time anyway. I must say, having the two second most powerful witches alive is very tempting to me."

"And you wanted to strip _my _powers?" I inquired, my bones quaking.

Isaac looked me directly in the eyes. "No," he said, taking a step toward me. Hunter instinctively stepped closer to me. "I need you for another purpose."

"What is it?" I whispered. Suddenly, black magick snaked around my body like rope, and pulled right to Isaac. His arms clamped around me from behind.

"Morgan!" Hunter cried desperately.

"She wanted to know," Isaac's breath was warm in my ear. I shivered. His rough hand was over my hand. Every inch of me screamed in warning. He moved it slowly up my leg, round my waist. My heart thudded frantically. Finally, it came to rest on my belly. I froze. Isaac's voice whispered hoarsely in my ear, "Sweet Morgan, you're carrying my child."

The thudding ceased...what? What had he said? Oh Goddess...oh Goddess it couldn't be possible...he "No!" I choked out.

He chuckled darkly in my ear, "Oh yes, Morgan, it's true."

"It can't be..."

His hand gripped my stomach tighter, "you can sense it, Morgan."

Suddenly my magick was reaching out, scanning my body in desperation. Nothing...nothing...but then I hit something...another power...something within me, but something which wasn't _me_...my eyes locked on Hunter's. He stood frozen in an aggressive stance...but his eyes were full of anguish. Goddess, I felt sick to the bones. "You sick, horrible man!" I cried out, shoving out of Isaac's arms.

He just laughed, "Life would have been much easier for you if you had stayed in your dumb, ignorant state," his voice made me quiver with anger and hate and fear. "Giving Isaac Cheldon a child. As opposed to giving Hadrian, the most powerful witch alive, a child to continue on the line of destruction."

I glared at him. Somehow, my mind knew I could not be in shock right now. That would come later...wherever later was. Now, I had to fight back. "Its life is in my hands," I said through gritted teeth, "not yours."

"Your own life is in my hands, girl," he said, his voice turned low and threatening; "If the child doesn't live, then you won't be any use to me, and I will strip your powers and then kill you."

A shiver ran up my spine. "You will never get that far, Hadrian." Hunter stepped in beside me. I felt his warmth by me...still familiar, still so, so right.

"She will have the child, Niall, and you won't be around to irritate me again,"

"Wrong," Hunter said quietly. The next instant a ball of cracking green was flying from his hands. Isaac stumbled back on the impact, but quickly righted himself.

"You're learning," he said, breathing hard. Amusement glinted in his eye.

Hunter smiled back, "You're losing." Black magick was suddenly at Hunter's chest, throwing him backwards to the floor.

"How dare you!" I seethed. My magick roared in me. Flames flew from my hands at Isaac, a huge column of them.

"_Sraonaim!" _He ordered. Suddenly, my flames were coming back at me, a great fist of them. I screamed and ducked. They flew over me. Isaac ran at me, grabbing my wrist as I tried to stand up again.

"Get off me!" I yelled, wrangling.

"_Fágfaidh sé!" _Hunter shouted. Green and gold wrapped around Isaac's hand, ripping it off my arm. I scampered back and stood. Hunter and Isaac were now facing each other close. I saw the athame in Hunter's hand. "Don't _touch _her!" Hunter growled, and lunged at him with the knife. Isaac blocked it with a wall of black power.

"Don't test me, Niall!" His hand twisted, Hunter was thrown back. He leapt up quickly, savagely ignoring the pain, I could see.

"_Maraím!" _He cried. That was the word for kill. Isaac furiously deflected it, and advanced toward Hunter again. Black and green hurtled back and forth. Hunter wasn't losing. He wasn't winning, though. Isaac began to get the better.

"_Ag múchadh, ag plúchadh!"_ He began to chant.

"_Ciúnaigh! Ciúnaigh!" _Thick tentacles black magick began creeping up on Hunter.

He staved them off one by one, but more were coming.

"_Tá sé nimhneach!" _Sweat glistened on his forehead. My heart fastened. They were getting closer and closer. What could I do? What did I know? Panic was overtaking me.

"_Gabhaim,"_ He coaxed the blackness, _"Gabhaim!"_

The tentacles began climbing up Hunter's legs. Oh Goddess, what do I do? Hunter couldn't fight them back anymore, there were too many. Wait...a freezing spell, I could freeze Isaac...would it stop him? I hurriedly thought back, trying to call up a memory of how to freeze someone...what could I..._oighreoidh, _my mind told me.

Summoning up my strength, I shouted, _"__oighreoidh mé!" _I felt my power surge out. It wouldn't be enough though, he kept going. _"I reoite tú!" _I cried desperately. I knew it would have worked, if he hadn't been so powerful. Isaac snapped one hand away from Hunter and focussed it at me. The pain came again, wrangling me down to my knees. I shrieked.

"Morgan!" Hunter yelled out, entirely bound by black magick. He tried to break it, furiously spitting spells out.

Tears came to my eyes again. He was going to die. I'd only just got him back...I hadn't even been able to speak to him...my _muirn beatha dan. _

_Morgan! _I heard his voice sharp in my head. Oh sweet goddess... _Morgan, we can't defeat him alone. We need to... _Hadrian sent another charge up his bindings. Hunter grunted in pain, _Join powers, join powers once more..._

Blood began to come out of my nose as Hadrian forced more magick at me. Join...but we were both trapped...I looked around me. There, glinting on the ground, Hunter's athame. I lunged for it, the pain horrible in me. "Hadrian!" I yelled, holding the athame to my belly. I called upon my last reserves of power to protect it, so that he would not be able to take it from me with magick. He snapped around, staring at what I was about to do.

"Morgan, no!" Hunter cried out.

I stared at the dagger fearfully, praying it would work.

"No!" Shouted Hadrian, letting go of his power, he leapt at me, yanking the athame from my hands. He slammed me into the floor. "You stupid bitch!" He gripped my shoulders and smashed my body into the stone, straddling me. "You dare steal my child!" His quivering hand raised above my forehead. My mind felt as though it was being crushed, killed. I screamed out.

"Hadrian!" Hunter yelled. Isaac was once again flying away from me. Hunter had broken the bonds. I stood up as fast as I could. He ran to me, gripping my bloodied hands in his. One look in those eyes and I felt the connection. We began to chant.

"_An di allaigh an di aigh_

_An di allaigh an di ne ullah"_

"Gawain I call upon you now!"

"_An di ullah be nith rah_

_Cair di na ulla nith rah!"_

"I call upon the power of the ancient world!"

"_Cair feal ti theo nith rah!"_

"Come to us now!"

Gold and purple magick exploded from the ground and up into the circle of our arms. It arranged in an orb, concentrated with such powerful magick...I looked to Hadrian, who stood in front of the fireplace. I sensed the walls he'd put up around him. But I also sensed, for the first time, fear.

_Can you do this, my love? _Hunter's voice came to me.

I steeled myself, the weight of the orb a strain on my magick, "Yes," I said aloud.

We dropped hands and directed the power at Hadrian. He cried out as it streamed through his blocks, and crashed into him, knocking him to the ground. Unconscious or dead, I didn't know.

The elation of magick left me, and I crumpled down to the stone, hurt, tired, bloodied. "Morgan," said Hunter, kneeling down at my side. He gently stroked the hair from my face. My whole body hurt. He hovered his hand above me, murmuring spells of healing. They didn't do a lot, but they relieved me a little. I stared at him, tears almost blinding me. Hunter. My Hunter.

"You're hurt," I croaked out, looking at his singed and ripped t-shirt. His right shoulder was slashed and bloody.

He shook his head, staring back at me. "I'll be fine."

"Is he...is he dead?" I whispered.

"No," he said, rubbing his thumb against my hand, "just unconscious. We need to get out of here, love, before he wakes up. That spell...it drained us both."

I nodded and tried to sit up. The pain shot at me and I let out a moan. Hunter reached to help me. "No," I said, "I'm fine." The pain was overbearing, but I managed to haul myself up. "I have to do something," I said.

Staring around the horrible circle room, I let my anger and pain fuel me.

"_An di allaigh an di aigh" _I began once more.

"Morgan..." Hunter said worriedly. I ignored him.

_An di allaigh an di ne ullah" _

"_An di ullah be nith rah" _Small flames lit around Hadrian's body. All the lies he had told me...

_Cair di na ulla nith rah!" _The hurt...

"_Cair feal ti theo nith rah" _The child...

_AN DI ALLAIGH AN DI AI!" _The whole room burst into flames, and I let go of the magick, collapsing. Hunter caught me this time, and quickly lifted me to cradle in his arms. "No!" I exclaimed, "I have to make sure..."

"Morgan," he said softly, "you have done all you can. We need to leave."

"I..." But maybe he was right – the flames leapt higher and higher. I could feel their heat.

Hunter gently carried me up the steps of the cellar.

"Giomanach!" Came a female voice. I heard hurried footsteps.

Sky, Hunter's cousin, came into view above me. She looked exactly as I remembered her – the blonde hair and dark blue eyes. "Morgan," she whispered. "Oh Goddess..." she looked to Hunter. "What happened? Is Hadrian..."'

"No," said Hunter. "You couldn't get in?"

"No," said Sky, "He blocked it. Looks like he only wanted you..."

"Mary K.!" I suddenly remembered. I wriggled in Hunter's arms as he carried me through the entrance hall. I could hear the flames crackling in the kitchen now. Magick spread fast. I could feel the smoke in my lungs. "We have to find her!" I tried moving, but Hunter held me tight.

"No, Morgan. Sky and Bree will find her. We need to get you home."

"Don't worry, Morgan," Sky said from somewhere close. "We'll make sure she's safe."

We burst through the massive doors and out into the cool night air. Everything in me hurt so terribly...I knew Hunter was trying to be gentle, but behind us, I could feel that the entire house was now engulfed in my flames. So I gritted my teeth against the pain and let the tiredness take me.

The next hour was a blur. We reached Hunter's car. Sky got in the front, and Hunter slid into the back with me. My burns and broken bones were too painful with a seatbelt on, so he just cradled me, my good arm around his neck. _So he won't leave...so he won't go._

I must have faded in and out of consciousness, because I could not understand it when we pulled into Bree's driveway – weren't we still outside Hadrian's estate? Quickly, I was being carried out of the car and into the bright lights of Bree's hallway.

"Alyce!" I heard Hunter shout. I heard the exclamations of several different voices, but my mind could not tell me whose was whose. Everything was fading into darkness.

All I knew was that Hunter was there, and he was taking care of me...

* * *

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